The Stranger I Met Today

You can always find somebody to talk to you at a bar.  Sometimes they find you.  I have a theory that it’s the actual set-up of a bar – a long piece of wood that spans most of the length of the room, stools neatly stacked every two feet, and an elbow-friendly ridge – that makes us turn to the left and the right to take stock and start talking. Perhaps it’s because we feel alike, sitting beside each other, with a uniform amount of space between each person.  No one in front, no one in back, just side by side with a drink and a moment to relax.  I’m not sure about you, dear reader, but I think it’s pretty easy to hear a good story and learn a lesson at a bar. 

I was at a bar of sorts a week ago.  I had stopped by the Cape May Brewing Company with friends for a tasting and was deciding between the Honey Porter and the Mop Man’s Mop Water 5 Spiced Ale (I ended up trying them both and they were delicious) and after ordering I heard “good choice.”  The voice belonged to Randy, my barstool neighbor.  We exchanged a few pleasantries and, once the short conversation waned, I resumed a conversation with my friend on the other side of me.  I can’t remember what exactly was said, but my friend mentioned something about military service. 

“You in the service?” Randy asked.  I was surprised that Randy heard us. 

“No, neither of us are.”  At that point, I could tell that we were in for a conversation with Randy whether we were looking for it or not. 

“I was.  Navy.  Not for long though,” Randy said.  I didn’t say a word because I could sense that I didn’t have to.  He went on to describe his two months of enlistment, how surprised he was when he was at friend’s house during a drug bust, his honorable discharge, and how hard he worked to get a copy of the discharge paperwork after nearly 40 years because he threw it away the first time.  Randy was still angry about that day, the day that ruined his life.  He claims, and I have no reason not to believe him, that he had no idea that a large quantity of marijuana was hidden beneath the wooden fruit centerpiece on the dining room table.  When arrests of the homeowners were made, Randy was arrested too because he was in the house.  He received the discharge phone call a few days later.

Randy told me about his life after that.  He described how his relationship changed with his father and how his original career plans vanished, resulting in jobs he didn’t want for a long time.  One day, according to Randy, ruined his life.  Being at the wrong place at the wrong time, he mentioned several times, ruined his life.

Lesson Learned

I’m not sure yet which lesson from my encounter with Randy is the most significant.  Is it don’t let regret consume you?  Is it be careful where you spend your time?  Or is it that one moment of one day can alter your life’s path? I don’t think this one can be wrapped up so easily. After fifteen minutes with Randy, I did learn that regret can be exhausting and does not always diminish with time.