1. Lunch
The Soup Peddler is a small place — just a shack on a busy corner beside a strip center with a small covered patio and a small fence-enclosed greensward. There are picnic tables on the lawn and a ping-pong table under open sky. It’s an Eden in the city.
Trudy and I stopped there for lunch yesterday. We ordered soup (of course) and apple/muenster grilled cheese sandwiches.
The Mulligatawny made me think of Akshay. He and I used to go there for a break from writing Scala code. He and his family moved to Costa Rica years ago where he lived the dream, put his computer aside for years, and is now a true believer again.
2. The Tutor
The air was a bit brisk, so Trudy and I sat on the patio under deliciously warm propane heaters. To be fair, our notion of brisk likely differs from many. Still, the warmth felt good, and in the event we weren’t alone.
After ordering her lunch at the walk-up counter, a woman smiled and sat down beside us. I was on a bench holding Izzy on a short leash. Trudy was on a bar stool.
“May I pet your dog?” the woman asked.
“Of course,” Trudy said. “Her name is Izzy.”
The woman smiled and whispered to Izzy. She mentioned her dogs and parenthetically a cat. Gradually the conversation revealed that she was a math tutor. (Like that’s just how a conversation with a stranger would go, right? Are you a math tutor? Why yes, I am.)
3. Shared Thoughts
I looked at the woman in silence for a moment. She waited for me to speak.
“Do you…,” I started out, thinking it silly. “Do you tutor Austin High students?”
“Yes I do!” she said after a moment, and she mentioned a name. “Is she a student of yours?”
“She is!”
We talked about the student. We talked about teaching high school students. About the importance of taking notes. Staying organized. How it’s hard for them to catch up if they fall behind.
We could have talked about so much more, but a face appeared in the window at the counter, pushed out a to-go bag, and called out a name.
“That’s mine,” the woman said as she stood up. “It was nice to meet you.”
4. Small World?
Who would think it? I thought at first. What a small world, right?
Except no. This happens frequently now, unlike when I taught in Bastrop County.
One of my students lives five houses down the block and honks as she drives by. Another works at the YMCA where we go. We have found ourselves sitting next to my students and their families at a pizza place. A student of mine has said hello from the corner of a sandwich shop. I saw one in Pease Park in the dark with his family as we all carried our lights at the solstice celebration three days ago.
The wonder of working close to home.