My work schedule is a little weird. I
mean, in the grand scheme of things, it's really not odd at all, but
instead of working 9 to 5, as tradition holds, I work 8:45 to 5:15.*
Consequently, though, when I'm leaving work, I'm uniquely equipped
to, y'know, actually leave work. The more traditional shift is either
8 to 4:30 or 8:30 to 5, so I'm one of the last ones out the door and
can exit with a minimal use of my PILWSDT** and get into my car and
immediately drive away, uninterrupted by parking lot traffic.
As such, I get to the cutoff to the
road home at almost exactly the same time each day. It varies by two
or three minutes at most, really, and that's if traffic's especially
gnarly. I am intimately familiar with the nature of life at the Bow
bypass between 5:18 and 5:21, is what I'm saying. This is how I know
Mullet Boy.
You might think it an insult to call
him "Mullet Boy" but, 1) I'm Canadian and 2) this guy wears
his mullet the way Superman wears his cape. Some people have awesome
hair, others have awesome hair thrust upon them, and the case of
Mullet Boy there can be no question that his hair is his
responsibility, his burden. He bears the scars of so much business in
the front and so very many parties in the rear that I'm amazed his
face can still bear a smile. But it does.
When I first adopted this new
schedule, last year, he was perhaps 14, with a slight hint of facial
hair on his lip and that particular cocky swagger I remember
attempting to perfect around the same age. He does it well, if a
little perfunctorily. He always walked alone, but seemed to enjoy the
company, a rare feat at that age. As time passed, though, he would
occasionally have the company of a young woman that I like to call
Bangs Girl. And, yes, it's because she has bangs.*** I liked her
instantly. She started walking with him at the beginning of the
school year, so I presume they attend together. We had a decently
chilly September, and this girl was - get ready for it - wearing a
jacket!
It saddens me that this is a
remarkable observation. Even when I was a lad, though, many girls had
already adopted this stance that jackets were, I don't know, not cool
or something. I really didn't know enough girls to ask, and now it
would be just really creepy. A thirtysomething guy with a pot belly
and a scraggly beard sidling up to a teenage girl to ask why her arms
are bare when it's forty degrees out? Yeah, even I'm creeped out by
that and, in this situation, I'm the creep. Still, there's something
to say for a young woman who actually dresses for the weather. That's
not why I knew they'd be a couple, though.
I have this thing. I'm pretty sure
someone has a fancy New Agey name for it, but in short I have a
slightly unnerving ability to tell when two people are going toe end
up in a relationship. It's not universal - I can't just look at two
people and say, "They're going to end up dating" - and it
doesn't predict length of the relationship****. So far, it's batting
about 24 for 25. My guess is that it's something to do with reading
body language and word choice. I say word choice because one of the
marriage I predicted was between two people I'd never actually met in
real life. Because I'm a geek, I call this my "spidey sense."
Anyhow, when I saw Mullet Boy and
Bangs Girl walking together this last September, my spidey sense
pinged. And I was right.
My first confirmation was in November.
It was a very cold day, and windy. For those of you who haven't been
through one of these days in New Hampshire, it's kind of hard to
describe what it's like to try to go for a walk in this kind of
weather. It's a little like walking in a NASA wind tunnel, but a wind
tunnel that hates your guts and wants you to die. The wind is
steadily pushing you back, but whenever you open your mouth the
speak, it seems to know and kicks up just a notch, right at mouth
level so that you choke. If you turn in a way that leaves you a
little off-balance, it gives an extra push just below your centre of
gravity. It's like zombie wind, a weather condition that hates the
living.
When I passed them, Mullet Boy was
jacketless and carrying two backpacks, and Bangs Girl was wearing two
jackets, one ridiculously overlarge. Now four minutes from work with
the heater on, the cold wind was still whistling through my bones, I
felt Mullet Boy's pain. I got the impression, though, that he wasn't
feeling any. The skin on his bare arms was red, and looked chapped.
He mullet flew behind him like a windsock. And he just didn't care.
Walking two steps behind Bangs Girls, his face was beaming.
Over the next few months, I saw them
walking together more and more, sometimes close together, sometimes
not. He never made a move on her while I was watching but, well, it's
a busy roadway. I would've played it cool in that situation too. They
were never on their phones, never listening to music, just walking
and talking together.
Something happened in March. I'm not
sure what it was, but Mullet Boy walked alone. It was a cold March,
too, a hard time to be lonely. He didn't strut, he shuffled, and he
never looked up from the road. The weeks went on, and still, he was alone. He seemed to walk with a bit more confidence as time went on, but there just wasn't a spring to his step anymore. I was getting worried about how life was going for this total stranger. This went on until last week.
Bangs Girl was back. They were walking
hand-in-hand the first time I saw them, and then, on Friday, he was
walking his arm around her shoulders. I was stopped at a light when
he said something that made her laugh. He smiled and pulled her
closer. She leaned her head on his shoulder for a second.
Why do I tell you this? Well, life is
hard. Some days, it hardly seems worth it to get out of bed. The
thing is, there's always a reason to.
* I wonder why the "9 to 5"
thing persists - I mean, virtually every office worker I know has two
unpaid fifteen minute breaks. I suppose "9 to 5:30" just
doesn't roll off the tongue.
** Personal "I'm Leaving Work So
Don't Talk" field. C'mon, we all have one.
*** Okay, so it's not a very clever
nickname, but the purpose of giving people nicknames is that you
remember them, and while it was tight running between Bangs Girl and
Definitely Not Chloe Deschanel, I eventually found myself defaulting
to Bangs Girl because it's simply easier to remember.
**** Well, that's not quite true. It
has two settings - "these people will date" and "these
people will end up getting married."
