While I sat waiting in my truck for my financial controller to return from inside a business, a fellow walked up to me. He apologized, saying he had mistaken me for someone else. Then he just stood there and talked.
Turns out he is a retired cop that lives in a small town about 50 miles away and was to meet a friend for lunch. He went to school at another small town about 25 miles away. Let me ask you, "Why would I care?" But, he wanted to give me information that I neither wanted or needed. He complained about how he had lived in his current abode for four years and knew only a couple of his neighbors. "It’s like people are afraid to get to know someone else," he said. "Of course, when they find out I’m a retired police officers, they really don’t want to talk to me," he went on. He seemed like a nice enough guy so I let him talk. My controller returned and we left.
He did give me one bit of wisdom. When you move to a small town and you just don’t seem to fit it, the way to finally feel like you are accepted is to simply wait. Wait until everyone that was there when you got there to die.
Judging by his age, I think he may not make it. He’ll have to be buried as an outsider.
PMO
©2014
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