Discerning "weirdos".

Sunday night bartending was slow, as usual. The barkeep-slash-cook from next door came in to buy cigs. He walked towards me to say hello and I could smell the reek of whiskey on his breath. He was more chatty than normal. Almost creepy. We exchanged small talk about how slow the night was and how great the weather had been. I could feel him intensely staring at me as I looked down during awkward pauses in conversation.

"I've made a ton a food tonight," he said with raised eyebrows, as if to entice me to order something as I've done countless times before.

"Not tonight," I smiled. "Nothing you have is on my diet, I'm sure."

As soon as I said it, I regretted it. I hated being the skinny girl who proclaimed she was on a diet. It wasn't like that. I am eating clean and trying to bulk up. I wasn't begging for someone to say, 'YOU don't need to diet.'

I was hoping he was as drunk as I suspected and didn't start complimenting me, as if I were fishing. He did.

We exchanged more small talk about working out and gaining muscle. He claimed to be an exercise science major once-upon-a-time, and even though he was frail except for a small beer gut, he seemed knowledgeable.

I smiled during his workout suggestions and nodded when he told me the "secrets" of accomplishing my muscle-gaining goals.

As he started to leave he asked for a hug. I hated these awkward moments. When my nice girl image conflicted with my inner bitch. I reluctantly gave him one.

He pulled away and with sober-seriousness asked me, "Do you ever let go ?"

His use of the words "let go" perplexed me. My mind instantly created a montage: My favorite song, "let go" and it's cursive lyrics on my wall. Skydiving on 10/10/10 with the intent to "let go," The tireless tattoo ideas to prove I "let go", The minutes I spend tossing and turning before sleep, knowing I never have and maybe never will... His comment was too discerning and it instantly got under my skin.

I smiled and pretended to not be affected. "I don't know what you mean," I said sweetly.

"Sure you do," he said. He eyes were drunkenly lit. "You can't control everything. You need to let go every once in a while. Do you ever  LET GO?"

I was baffled by his word choice. And almost automatically said, "NO, I never do."

"It's going to catch up to you," he said. "You know that right?"

"I know," I smiled.

He went on to encourage me to take a day off every once in a while. A movie night. A lazy dinner. Somewhere along the way, he plugged his cooking and his 3 dogs and how much company that would be for me.

I was unsure how much of his spill was a coincidental attempt to ask me out, and how much of it was a sign.

I had been feeling more and more exhausted lately. Some nights I get so tired it's like I cannot sleep. The room just spins and my legs just ache and I'm convinced it's either my body winding down or me, dying. Some nights I'd swear if I wasn't too tired, I'd cry.

He left and I stood there contemplating the encounter. My faith seems non-existent these days. But it was hard for me to chalk this up as a 'coincidence.' A discerning 'weirdo' with all the right words.

I haven't fully decided how to internalize the encounter yet, other than continue my quest to "let go". So far, I'm still unsuccessful and it's either transparent to strangers or becoming dangerous enough that the universe is sending me a message.

At the end of the night, I just smile. Whether or not the discerning weirdo was a coincidence is ultimately, irrelevant. The meaning is in how it affected me...

The brief moment of clarity I gained was refreshing and unexpected. The fact that we can ponder whether these things are signs or mere coincidence makes the the world amazing, nonetheless.