Now Go Put on Some Socks

Once upon a time, it was January 16, 2013, a Wednesday morning.

It was during that week that it was raining and raining and it wouldn't stop. I have a hard enough time maintaining joy when it's cold outside, so the rain in addition to the cold was treacherous for me. I had been in the library doing some homework and accidentally drinking black coffee and I was headed across library bridge to print out some stuff in Holmes and then go have lunch in Harcombe. 

When I walked outside I got so sad because it was raining again and I had French-braided my hair that morning and the rain meant I had to put my hood on my head which would mess up my carefully done hair, which I know is pretty trivial, but I'm just saying. I like my hair. I put my hood on and started walking. I was wearing Chacos instead of rain boots which was just a bad decision for my toes. It was cold and raining, and that can put an end to any good mood for me. I was exhausted and didn't care about anything anymore. I put my hood on my head out of anger at the sky for its insistence to spew cold liquid on me but I didn't zip up my jacket or fix my hood when it fell off. I was really mad.

I saw a guy a few steps in front of me holding an unopened umbrella and in my head I fussed at him: "Are you crazy, man? It's raining and you haven't opened your umbrella? What good is that doing for anyone at all?" But of course I said nothing out loud.

And then suddenly he was next to me with his umbrella opened and over my head. I laughed kind of nervously and said, "Thank you," because I'm polite, but then I didn't know what to do or say after that. We walked together in peace and silence.

He asked me where I was going, to which I replied, "Holmes. Do you know where that is?" And he did, which was nice. I asked him where he was going, and he said, "I didn't start out the day with a plan, so I don't see why I should have one now." I found this surprising, because this is college, and you have to plan out your time, because if you don't, you'll just do fun stuff all the time, which is fun, but not productive. I always have a plan. I am a planner. But he was not, which I respected and appreciated.

Being under the umbrella with him allowed me to see him a little more closely: he was African-American and he was wearing dark, baggy clothes and he had a piercing in his right ear, but only his right ear. 

We were walking but not talking. What do you say to a random guy you've never met who holds a black umbrella over your grumpy head? I didn't know the protocol for this situation. It didn't bother me at all that we weren't talking but I felt like I should say something to be polite, so I introduced myself. I said, "I'm Laura." He said it was nice to meet me but he didn't say his name, so I had to ask him, and he said, "My friends call me Truth." 

1. It was weird that he said his friends called him Truth, but never actually said what his name was. 2. What kind of name is Truth? I decided that maybe I misheard him.

We kept walking and not talking. I didn't try to initiate any more conversation. And then he asked me if I liked nature. What kind of question is that?

I had to discern whether or not I actually liked nature, because nature is really big. I know that all of my friends really really like nature, but I've always been more of an inside-reading-a-book kind of girl, but then I realized that I absolutely like nature. A lot. I decided that my most favorite thing about it is the sky. I really am a big fan of the sky, and I like it the most when it is not heartlessly ejecting cold liquid on me. 

So I told him that, and he seemed relieved to hear that, which I thought was kind of peculiar, but this was already an odd conversation so it didn't bother me too much. We were about halfway to Holmes at this point.

He told me I smelled good, which is definitely weird. In high school, one of my friends used to tease me and tell me I smelled bad all the time, which legitimately hurt my feelings and made me feel insecure about how I smelled, so I was quite surprised and encouraged by this very specific compliment from this guy who didn't know that about me. I noticed that he smelled gently of cigarettes.

We were passing people on our walk who had umbrellas or rain jackets with them, and they all looked depressed and mission-minded and unhappy, which he pointed out. He sounded sad about it. I mentioned that it's difficult to be cheerful in weather like this, and he agreed with me but still remained affected and saddened by the sight of these people. It was as if they weren't thinking about anything more important than getting where they were going, staying as dry as possible, and avoiding thinking about deeper things, like how they felt about nature or how the person next to them smelled. It was as if they had no joy. 

We reached Holmes. He walked me right up to the front door, and I made sure to be genuine when I thanked him, because I genuinely appreciated his kindness to me. I asked him his name again, and, again, he said, "My friends call me Truth." 

I said it was nice to meet him, and a girl from my hall was holding the door to the lobby open for me, so I had to go. As I was about to turn away, Truth said, "If I don't see you again, never forget this conversation." I said, "Okay," and went inside. 

That was one of the most unusual interactions I've ever had with another human. I think that either he was quite a melodramatic creepy guy who tells self-conscious girls that they smell good, or Jesus sent him to me to say, "Hey Laura, the world isn't about you so quit feeling sorry for yourself, but here's a nice guy to share his umbrella with you. Now go put on some socks." I prefer the latter.

It has been ten months and I have not seen Truth since, so I'm telling this story to remember the conversation like he told me to. So that's what happened. The end.  

Love, Lauralicious