Because of the way my apartment building is shaped, my shower has a window that looks down into a breezeway (though I have admittedly never actually looked down out of fear of what I may find). If folks keep their windows even slightly cracked open, you can pretty easily hear rumblings, pieces of conversations, ringing phones, etc within the other units.
A few months ago my neighbor and I happened to be showering at the same time, both with our windows open, and mid-shampoo lather my fellow building dweller began singing...loudly...to the (slightly 0ff) tune of Fleetwood Mac's Landslide. This being one of my favorite songs of all time (it's one of yours too, I know), I naturally began to sing along.
I started off quietly. First with humming. Then adding a lyric or two. And before I knew it I was boldly singing in (not so great) harmony with him. He paused only for a moment to most likely confirm he was indeed being joined by a female voice. We sang passionately and fully for the entirety of the tune, ending our morning serenade session simply by shutting off the water and going about our days.
No other words were exchanged. No notes left on doors. No additional musical duets have transpired since that morning.
Which is perfect, if you think about it. Why ruin a spontaneous connection of two Stevie Nick's fans with awkward introductions or failed attempts at re-creating a so-this-is-happening moment?
Depending on the bus route I take to work, sometimes when I get off at my stop I have to walk a couple of blocks down a fairly steep hill to my office. On days when I wear heels I have been known to wobble a bit at this task--I've never been great in heels, but when you add in a steep descent I suddenly have the weakest ankles on the planet.
Last week as I mildly teeter tottered in heeled booties down Pacific Avenue through Chinatown I rolled my ankle in a super ungraceful almost-fall. To my surprise when the very old Chinese man (who shuffled so slowly up that hill he practically was moving backwards) I was passing caught sight of my awkward trip/tumble/ankle roll he began hysterically laughing and pointing at me. We're talking mouth wide open exposing a few stray, crooked teeth, eyes tearing up, knee slapping kind of laughs.
I don't know what came over me, but I couldn't help myself....I began to crack up, too.
There we stood; a 41/2 feet tall elderly Asian man with a predominantly gummy smile and orthopedic shoes and the skinny white girl who towered over him in her heels while clutching one throbbing ankle, pointing and laughing at one another in the middle of the sidewalk for a solid minute or two.
After catching our breath we both then walked (shuffled and limped, actually) away chuckling and shaking our heads, wiping the tears from our eyes and heading to our respective destinations. I doubt I'll ever see that man again and I kinda wish someone had taken a photograph of this scene; I'd probably frame it and put it on my desk as a reminder to be light at heart and to laugh so hard at the silly, surprising side of life it makes you cry.
I giggled about that moment at random for at least 2 days afterward, though, whenever it popped into my head.
(Truthfully I'm still giggling, now.)
Whatever gets you through the day, amIright?