It’s Funny… How I met Two Cool and Silly Strangers

I felt tired, hungry at worst. My body was screaming for rest, and all I could think about was getting home, grabbing a snack, and just melting into the couch for a bit.

My French classes were going okay, but those upcoming French B1 exams drove me up the wall. I could barely catch the professor’s French; so how could I survive a full audio-listening exam spoken by a complete stranger?

It’s usually a bit of a stretch from the matatu (mini-public vans) stop to home. A slow 20-minute walk if you’re in no rush. It was around 3 p.m., the road was mostly empty. The kind of time when the streets are too quiet and the sun too bright.

As I walked, I noticed a guy heading in the direction I was coming from. He looked about my age.

I quickly scanned the road and noticed a few scattered people far off along with some cars and motorcycles passing occasionally. That meant, at that moment, only the two of us were passing each other. And just like that, things started to feel awkward.

I started overthinking: Do I stare ahead? Pretend I’m texting? Look down? Or stare him right in the face and make him more uncomfortable than I felt?

In the end, I did a little bit of everything: looked up, glanced sideways, eyes ahead… just trying to skip past him, past this teenage hood awkward tension. When he finally got close and said hi, I sighed out loud, said hi, and continued my way thinking about my snack.

I barely made three steps forward when I saw him walking beside me. He was tall-ish, slender, dark-skinned; and the moment he spoke again, his sense of humour struck me and instantly made me forget how tired I was.

You know those silly pick-up lines teenage boys throw around? He tossed out one or two and it was sweeping me out my feet with laughter. Somehow, we ended up walking toward my home, taking the longer route, just talking.

I laughed the entire way and all I remember from the conversation we had was him saying, “I make up for my looks with humour.”

We talked about everything and nothing. Random things. The kind of easy conversation that lifts the weight off your body and your brain. By the time we got close to my place, we exchanged numbers and said goodbye.

And that was the end of our tale, we never spoke again. Don’t even remember his name. And honestly, if I saw him today, I probably wouldn’t recognize his face.

He was a stranger who made my long stretch back home humorous. And that was it.

Funny thing is, it reminded me of another stranger I met back in high school during a hockey tournament. It was one of those big, hyped-up inter-school events. Tons of students, tons of chaos, and of course, tons of mingling. I mean, as teens, that’s always half the fun.

On the last afternoon of the tournament, I met this cheeky, mischievous funny guy.

He was the type of person whose personality you could read right off his face, outgoing and trouble-maker.

We walked around the field, chatting for maybe half an hour, and he kept me entertained the entire time. I even forgot how disappointed I’d been about not qualifying for the hockey tournament semi-finals.

He was so free, so fun, and his energy was contagious.

Soon, the time came to leave, and we had to cut our conversation short. It’s only then that I realized we hadn’t exchanged names or numbers. So he picked up a stick, stretched out my hand, and wrote his name and number right there on my arm.

We said our goodbyes and promised to talk during the school holidays coz we were in a boarding high school.

On the bus back to school, I kept staring at my hand, trying to memorize the number. The moment I got back, I jotted it down and waited for the holidays like a kid counting down to Christmas.

When I finally texted him, nothing. Tried calling, but still nothing. Maybe I messed up a digit. Maybe he gave me the wrong number. Or maybe I called the right number, just at the wrong time. I don’t know.

I had thought about him so many times before the holidays. Wondering what it would be like to hear from him again. But just like that, he was gone.

Another stranger. I remember neither his face nor his name. All I know is he made me laugh because he acted a little silly.

Isn’t it wild how sometimes the people who bring light and laughter into our day can become nameless shadows in our memories?