Making contact

We checked out of the Kingfisher this morning and decided to hit up the next car wash we found. While waiting in line behind the rest of the population of Comox who had the same brilliant idea we had a knock at the driver's side window. We turned to see a little elderly man in patchwork trousers, plaid shirt and a trucker hat rapping urgently with his pipe on the glass. Joel lowered the window and as he did the man jutted his finder toward Joel and began 

"what the hell do you think you're doing here?" Waving his pipe at the rear of our car. We both sank a little lower in our seats expecting the fellow was irate to see California license plates in his town. 

"You're going to freeze to death!" he laughed to himself and started to light his pipe. 

Despite his enormous hearing aids in both ears he listened intently to Joel's explanation and then he launched into his own story about his converted Greyhound bus he used to drive down to Arizona every Winter. 

"But now I'm too old, even for that" 

Once his curiosity has been quenched he disappeared as he had come and Joel and I were left laughing at ourselves for being so taken aback by the harmless man who just wanted to know who we were. 

I also thought about my last encounter with people peering at my license plates.  There was a woman on the ferry who glowered at me muttering something to her husband I can only guess the content of. Why don't we all just walk up to people we're curious about and ask them for their story? I salute our new friend in Comox and hope I'll be that bold at 92.