Oscar

Yesterday, I got a car wash and met the business owner, Oscar, for the second time. I asked how his Thanksgiving went. He said it was fun, but dieting was challenging during the holiday season. He had been working on becoming healthier. He proudly said he had lost 40 pounds over the last six months—a substantial amount for a guy at 5’6″—through exercise and limiting himself to one serving.

“No seconds!” he said.

He turned around and asked how my break was, and I told him about our short road trip to Southern California.

Oscar didn’t seem to be in a rush—it didn’t seem like another customer was waiting—and I wasn’t either. As the questions flowed, I was surprised we ended up having a pleasant 20-minute conversation.

He divulged a few details of his other small businesses with his wife and father-in-law: They have a cleaning business and have been dabbling in house flipping, though struggling to secure permits with the city on their current project.

Oscar told a few other personal stories: A disgruntled employee once stole $1,500 of equipment from his storage. Another is suing him. He didn’t get into his dream college and wanted to play pro baseball when he was younger. He even shared his parenting philosophy with his 11-year-old and 8-year-old: “My goal is to give them the opportunities my parents never gave me. What they do with them is their choice. I will have done my part.”

I am often fascinated by how ready Americans are to converse. I have come to enjoy this aspect of living in this country: It allows me to listen to random stories from people I don’t normally interact with. Where I grew up, people are far more suspicious towards strangers.

The downside is that you can also easily run into conversations you can’t wait to get out of. Once, my seatmate on a cross-country flight was eager to tell me his detailed life story that I had no interest in. When he finally took a breath after a long rant, I swiftly put on my headphones. I was immensely grateful to have brought them along. The noise-cancellation feature turned out to be a worthwhile investment.

Oscar was different, however. Even though we barely knew each other, within seconds, I sensed the genuineness in his smile and open gestures. What struck me is that sometimes, we feel more comfortable sharing stories with a stranger we may never meet again. The knowledge that there is no agenda, no strings attached, keeps the conversation light. There is less worry about judgment or repercussions when I know I can walk away unscathed if the conversation ceases to be mutually enjoyable. There’s something unique when two people listen and appreciate each other’s presence, not trying to solve each other’s problems but merely acknowledging we are humans trying to make sense of this complex, imperfect world.

Once we are done, we return to our parallel lives.