i say hello: part 2

on the subject of my burgeoning la social life, i had a little get together with a new friend earlier this week. mallory, a second-year student at ucla, was sitting at urth caffe in west hollywood a few weeks ago, sipping a cappucino and reading at the table next to me. the reason i noticed her, of course, was the subtle designerly details of her handbag. the first time i noticed such a design was during my european pursuits with mark, while riding the train through the mountains of switzerland. these freitag bags, made from used european truck tarpaulins, are individual pieces of art, the process itself defining the singularity of each unique bag.

i was surprised when, the next morning at the back door bakery in silverlake, one of the east-side neighborhood's favorite breakfast joints (despite the city health department's assigned "b" rating), i noticed the same bag, the same book, and the same girl, alone at her table enjoying the same late summer morning as i was. such chance meeting--or more appropriately, sighting--on two subsequent days, in two distintly different neighborhoods of the sprawling los angeles metropolis, begged me to rise from my table and introduce myself to this person with whom, apparently, my path was intentionally to cross.

mallory is a sweet girl, wth a brilliant smile and beautiful brown hair, tightly curled as if a sign of the cheerfulness that is wildly bound up inside her. after breaching the subject of her much-admired bag (which she had actually purchased from the moca store despite her own recent vacation in european cities), we talked about la eateries, her boyfriend, and the unlikeliness that we should cross paths in such a way. as if to make the world even smaller, mallory told me she grew up in pensacola, a city which is very familiar yet still holds little fondness for me. as any pensacola native is versed in the weird ways of the school i attended, mallory could identify with that unique slice of my life in which i was smothered by weeks of wearing khaki, nights of 11 pm lights out, and moments of watching my back in fear of the authorities. in fact, mallory had her own stories of pensacola christian academy, and how both her father and uncle had been kicked out in high school for matters that the rest of the world would deem insignificant, if even noticeable.

with those commonalities between us, mallory and i met for brunch in venice beach sunday at the french market cafe. we were to spend the day together perusing the booths and bodies at the annual abbot kinney street festival. as we bonded over our experiences living in la, meeting new people and winding through relationships, we encountered a similarity that shocked and excited both of us. while relaying a story about one of her best friends, mallory expained to me the way she and this friend had met years before. "back in high school, i lived in washington, d.c. i was there as part of this thing called the page program..."

that sentence opened the floodgates for us. although years before mallory, i too had been part of the page program, another brief span in my life that, although it has provided an extremely unique context for living the rest of my life, is difficult, if not impossible, to share with friends who have never experienced the minute details of living together with 70 other teenagers for a school year while working in the u.s. captiol, a building in which some of the world's most influential decisions are debated and ascertained. many people experience a period that uniquely defines part of their perception of life, but few are able to encounter others who so intimately understand what that experience means. in a flurry of excitement, mallory and i threw out names of teachers, bosses, and congressmen, each telling dramatic stories of scandal that has since been nearly forgotten. an unbelievable bond and unexpected relationship quickly matured, and we knew that such a rare relationhip would not easily be dissolved.

today i am back on track with the details of my life, crossing city streets in tedious completion of errands, and marking my calendar with potential work dates and social gatherings. and i delightfully think about that warm morning several weeks ago when i looked up from my paper and saw the lovely young girl i would so quickly get to know. all i had to do was smile i say hello.