I needed to run to the grocery store to pick up a few things. Since I don’t have a car, and after such a long day I didn’t feel like driving, I called a cab. In lieu of bringing a shopping list, I decided to bring Vegan Soul Kitchen, a book by Bryant Terry with me to flip through while shopping–my hope was that I was would be inspired to pick up some new ingredients to liven up my staple meals, and maybe even decide to try a totally new recipe.

I walked out of my door, down the stairs, and stood on the sidewalk next to the parking lot where I waited for my cab to arrive. The green taxi pulled up and I hoped inside. As cabbies often do, the gentleman driving made small talk. He glanced at me through the rearview mirror while driving; I chatted while flipping through the pages of my book, looking at nothing in particular.

“So, are you going to The Players Ball this weekend?”

“Naw, I didn’t even hear about it until a day or so ago. I wouldn’t have gone anyway though, it doesn’t sound like my cup of tea.”

He glanced back over his should and looked at me. “Yeah, I didn’t take you for the type to attend an event like that and I’ve only known you for about a minute. Plus, I see you have a vegan book. I’m a bit of a vegetarian too.”

“Well, I’m not really a vegan or vegetarian yet. I’m just trying to form healthier eating habits and cut down on the amount of red meat I consume. I also want to transition to a better overall diet, with more leafy greens and what-not.”

“Oh, that’s cool. Do you attend any of the farmer’s markets around here? I actually have a small plot of land where I grown vegetables, greens, stuff like that. I’ve tried to get a spot at the weekend farmer’s market but the folks who run it are like a clique–they don’t let just anybody in and I’ve been trying to get in for a while now.”

“Cool. Do you ever sell any of your produce? I’m always looking for a way to get more inexpensive but healthy foods.”

“I always have excess stuff and I don’t even sell it. I give it away all the time to my friends. If you want, you can take down my number and whenever you want some extra produce I would love to give you some–no charge of course.”

“That’s great!” He gives me his name and number and I call him on the spot so that he has my number too.

We pull up the front of the store. “Well, it was really nice to meet you Steve. And now that I have your number I will definitely give you a call.”

“What did you just say?”

“Um, I said I would be giving you a call.”

“My name is Nate, not Steve.”

Ooops. How did I forget this man’s name and he just told me what it was a few seconds ago?

“I’m sorry, it’s been a long week. But seriously, I’ll give you a call about that produce though.”

I paid my cab fare, got out of the cab and walked through the automatic doors granting me entry to the store. I looked behind me and noticed that he was still parked there, looking at me walk away.

*Obviously not his real name
^Yes, this is the actual name of a huge party that students on my campus have been attending for who knows how many years; apparently, it is very popular too