The feeling of attachment to a total stranger. Where you know it is strange, when it has no meaning at all and yet…it still means something. For me, these baristas also really reminded me of my cousins (not in a weird way) but how they would make jokes, comments here and there and I think because of their background had similar traits to my family. Even though their energy and behaviour were very inconsistent (let’s not even talk about mine), they would somehow always ask the right questions and know stuff about me that colleagues/volunteers that I had been working with for nearly 10 months had never asked or even bothered to remember. Here you have two complete strangers remembering small details about me months later.
This then brought me onto the topic of attachment and how we can feel involved in someone’s lives and still know that they’re fundamentally strangers. Understanding (especially as I also work in customer service and have the know-how that creating regulars is KEY) that I was irrelevant to these people but hated how relevant they were to my life. This also reminded me of University, and how you could spend hours each week talking to the same person, having that routine of seeing and walking home with them, them knowing things about you that others haven’t clocked yet BUT:
- Do you hang out outside of classes? Nope.
- Do you know each other’s likes and dislikes? Nope.
- and in some cases (like this one), do you even know each other’s names? Hell no.
So, that leaves me with all these questions and primarily: Where, for me, can I slot you in my tiers of friendships? You’re clearly not a friend, not an acquaintance but I know too much information about you to be a stranger BUT YOU’RE STILL A STRANGER.
Are we allowed to have these so-called ‘Strange-Acquaintances’ or are we supposed to follow through with them and do something about it?
Are we supposed to put ourselves in an uncomfortable situation and possibly do the same to the other person to pursue something that fundamentally won’t work and ‘functions’ just the way it is? That pushing through and pursuing it would inevitably ruin this strange acquaintanceship.
Does dating rules apply to friendship?
Do we have to follow certain rules to make sure we can deal with the rejection of making friends out of strangers?
Or do we just continue with this not-knowing and revel in it?
Are we supposed to just enjoy it for what it is and store the ‘happy’ memories of that ‘one stranger that one-time’ moment?
I guess the final conclusion I can take from this is:
Good looking baristas/strangers should be banned – don’t be f***ing my daily dose of caffeine with your FINE self.
Cristina Ferreira Mendonça
The Anxious Portuguesa 