Lunch Hour People Watching

The beauty of this post is, like Seinfeld, its about nothing. Enjoy.

The scene: A food court in an underground plaza in downtown Winnipeg during lunch hour. There is the usual assortment of pseudo-ethnic foods, matching tables and flourescent lighting. There is an inner circle of tables, surrounding by a circular eating bar dotted with people dining alone and facing in. Beyond the perimeter are more tables, forgotten in the plans apparently.

These outside tables are full. People are respectfully paced (only sitting beside someone if you have to) at the eating bar. The inner circle is busy, but not full.
I'm sitting at the bar, like the others alone.

There is a man and woman at a table. He is leaning forward, making eye contact, smiling. Her face flirts back, but her body is defensive. Perhaps she is worried about the consequences of an office romance. Perhaps she is clueless. He's cute.

The din in the court seems louder than the actual conversation. No one is loud. Few actually speak. A lot of quiet company and intent eating.

Another man looks up and away while speaking to the woman across the table. Her eyes watch him intently.

Few people are laughing. Only at 2 tables are people smiling. Does anyone want to be here? in the company they are sharing lunch with? Is this a worktime duty, off the clock?

Matching the man's upturned gaze is a woman sharing her table with 2 other women. One speaks, gestering enthusiastically. The other woman silently sips her soup off the spoon.

The big table of 7 or 8 laughs. Their laughter raises the energy in the court briefly, like a spike. People notice, the don't look, but it registers.
The oldest man at the table leans back on the chair, reversing his arm over the back of the chair - confidently. The youngest man at the end of the table leans forward, physically placing his face in the conservation. Is he trying to hear? or be seen?

An old man across the inner circle is looking at me. He's people watching too, now he' sees me as a fellow watcher. He knows I know he knows. He doesnt' smile. He doesn't look away. He simply watches me. His white bushy eyebrows point at me. His nose a bit red, probably from a few extra scotches. Intently, he watches me watch. Do others see me as this creepy?

I think I'm ready to be released, doctor

Speaking of nutters...I think I'm not one afterall.

I know I have a tendancy to overthink my life, my personality, my relationships, ad infinitum. I do this regularly. Sometimes it's useful. Sometimes it's not. Usually I come to the same conclusions, or I think they are conclusions. I don't really want to 'conclude' anything about a life in progress.

I have a sense of the future now. Optimism you might call it. Like something great is going to happen, but you aren't sure what yet. It's beyond Bangkok (ooh! stay tuned for back-in-bangkok.blogspot.com) . It's a sense that a career out there exists that'd I'd be great at and love. It's a sense maybe my slacking love life might cue in one day. It's a sense that I have a great life waiting to surprise me and be molded by me. I actually feel excited.
I almost -almost- trust it. I almost -almost- see the defeat in the over self-analysis cycle.

I always thought of myself as a grand work in progress. As something to be studied, reflected upon, worked on, fixed. But maybe I'm actually ok. Sane in fact.

Maybe it's almost -almost- like I'm starting to trust my self. or believe.

Or that I"m bored at work and need more coffee.

A funny thing happened on the way to Sri Lanka

...I was told by the government I can't go. So I've been in Winnipeg waiting for a new assignment - which is.....Bangkok! Yup, I'm going back to Bangkok, Baby.

I've been living in a hostel, which is fascinating. No really. It is. I've never actually lived in a hostel - all sorts of people come and go here. Some are interesting travellers, some are nutters. Some are foreigners travelling our great land, others are Canadians traversing it like a curse. Most are nice & well intentioned, if crazy. Having some knowledge of Canadians, I notice most of the Canadians that are here fall neatly into the nutter category. After coming to this realization, I had a newfound respect for the owner - he can talk to all these people. It takes a unique combination of humour, patience and politeness. I have all three of these qualities, but not in the right mix I guess.
He can listen to the Crazy Woman's (she could be a Jim Carry character a la dumb & dumber, only shorter, older and, um, bigger) stories & laugh with her ramblings. When she starts off with "So Jen Deear, did I mention..." (in a nasally, squeally drawl). I politely answer questions with short reponses. The problem is when she follows me, but so far I've persistently reminded myself there must be something actually wrong with her, so I can't hit her.

So now I wonder if the people in hostels (maybe myself included) are the nutters of their respective countries. Foreigners share accomodation with Canada's crazies. Maybe we share with foreign crazies, but don't know it because we assume they are all like that....

Well, off for a bday with a beach. Not what I had in mind, but that's life, I suppose....