A Chance Encounter

Last night, there was a homeless man next to his shopping cart of belongings on the edge of a major chain store, just minding his own business.

I had to go near him to return my small cart, and since I was there, thought, “Heck with it.”

I turned toward him, made eye contact, and setlled back, leaning against the wall to face him with my hands in my pockets to keep them warm.

“So what’s your story?” I asked him curiously. “Why are you out here?”

Thus ensued a two-hour conversation of us relating to tall tales of desperation; laughing at the narrow escapes; and connecting over music.

He was a decent-looking fellow and kept himself well taken care of, which was what had prompted me to ask about his story.

Early on, he asked me if I would mind giving him a hug, as he said he hadn’t had one in a while.

Normally, I would have hesitated, but had decided to grant him his request.

He was a good hugger.

It felt right and natural to do so.

Safe.

Neutral.

Respectful.

He was a gentleman.

Completely unassuming

His spirit was there, solid and present.

And he smelled good – which surprised me.

I think he must have had some cologne on!

Dang.

Later as we said goodbye, I offered him another hug in parting.

The sensations were the same.

The scent on my jacket lingered and enveloped me on my way home, and I snuggled into it, allowing myself to soak it in – and giggled at my sillyness.

For in the end, he was just a man and I was just a woman.

And it felt good to be appreciated.