Try Try Again

I got my hair done Saturday morning, which always makes me feel like a rock star. So I'm walking around showing off Saturday afternoon, which happened to be warm and sunny, and that's ideal, especially the sunny bit, as the sun glinting off my shiny new hair makes it all the more radiant and lovely. I'm walking up Broadway, headed to the Jewel for the weekly fruit and vegetable excursion, and this dude is walking down Broadway, for what purpose I know not. He's an odd looking duck, with a controlled-bushy beard and a beatup leather jacket. I imagine he's the son of one of the guys from ZZ Top. He says something as I pass him, which might be "Great color" or might be something in another language. I don't stop to talk to strangers on the street (unless they're really cute or carrying a guitar or something), especially not when I don't know what they're saying or if they're even talking to me or maybe just crazy, so I just keep walking.

Half an hour later, grocery bags in hand, I'm headed back down Broadway, and ZZ Jr. is walking up it, apparently returning from whatever his errand was. I recognize the beard from about half a block away. This time I'm paying attention as he says "By the way, great color."

"Thank you."

Always nice to get second chances in life, even if it's just to be polite.

I also think it's great that he started with "By the way," as though we were in the middle of a conversation.