How to Destroy Possible Conversation

She has tried to start a conversation with everyone. I knew I was next.

Her first victim was the art student filming. I laughed inside as she tried to relate. She sold real estate. On her laptop are small inspirational sayings that I can't make out. They look like reminders for her to keep going, to wake up everyday. He was an artist. A similar field, if you can compare a car to a camel - both can get you by. She's fumbling in her tone, but begging for friendship. She has no ring and is alone. The artist is more interested in his laptop screen than her proposal for conversation.

She tries to talk to the guy with the Macbook Air adjacent to the artist. He's interested and they yuk it up about the housing market, but there's only so much to say.

"Interesting window of time," he concludes. And then silence.

It's over. I'm next. I'm trying to shove first century Greek grammar in my head and this woman's going to start talking to me. She has to be over 30 and I look twelve. Maybe she'll ask how Social Studies is going. If she does I have a great Andrew Jackson anecdote I can tell with some pizzaz.

"Are you a student?" she says finally.

Frick.

"Part-time..." I say with a trail.

"What do you do?"

This is my choice. I can shut her down with "Pastor" or intrigue her with "teacher."

"I'm a pastor."

"Oh, interesting." She looks back to her laptop.

"Yeah, it's quite the job..."

Quite the job? What the hell? What does that mean, Quite the job? If "pastor" didn't scare her off, the description that my occupation is "quite the job" is going to push her to dial Child Services. This is why I'm a fumbling evangelist and probably an idiot.

I was packing up and thought how stupid that was. I am always thinking about how I have to get somewhere (when I really don't) or how I really don't want to talk about it (which I do) and I leave with few comments. I do this instead of putting the good news first. It is good news too. It's wonderful news for this lonely, single real estate saleswomen. But I put my schedule before the news.

How is it, that in a city so large and so compact, we are still so lonely?

Next time I'm a teacher.