A Smile From A Stranger.

I had been riding the tube home from work for over two months when I finally deciding to buck up the courage to talk to a man who I had seen sitting on the Central line platform at Liverpool Street. Without fail he would be there. Sometimes he would arrive later than me and I’d already be sat on this bench, and sometimes I’d arrive and sit next to him. It was never a purposeful thing in the beginning, it was just coincidence. I’d be sat reading my book, he’d be there. I noticed him but he never really noticed me.

It’s strange to say but the reason that I started remembering him, and noticing his absence was because of his demeanour, and his hat! He was a giant of a man in the muscular sense. He looked like a labourer of some sorts. He had huge arms, massive hands, and towered over everyone as he walked past. People would actually move out of his way as he walked along the platform to get to his seat. He had slumped shoulders kind of like every day was a tough day for him. He had a lined face, and was always dishevelled. He didn’t acknowledge anyone as he walked around, but I noticed people look at him. He reminded me of John Coffey from the Green Mile. He had that sort of conduct about him. His size seemed to be the first thing you would notice about him.

 Then the second thing was his hat. It was a beany cap, bright yellow with the black print smiley face on it. I remember walking past him and it made me smile, though I still don’t know why I noticed it anyway. I think I was having a bad a day and the littlest thing cheers me up. Plus seeing a huge beast of a man walking towards you with a little smiley on his head would make anyone smile I think.

They just seemed to contradict each other so much.

He always sat and just stared at the floor. Once time someone asked him for the paper next to him and he said nothing in response, just sat there, so the man took it anyway.  Not unusual really. I used to look at him out of the corner of my eye, and think I just wanna say hello. I don’t know why, but sometimes when someone looks so sad, or angry, I just want to speak to them because maybe a simple “hello” from a stranger could make a difference to them. Even if it is just me. I don’t know why one day I actually decided to speak to him. Maybe it was because the platform was deserted and it was just me and him so I finally decided to say four simple words. To roll the dice and see how they land. Those four little words were.

“I like your hat.”

It was out there, a couple of little words that didn’t really warrant a response, it was just a statement of fact. If he said anything that was OK. If he didn’t, Oh well, he doesn’t want to talk.

We sat in silence, so I kept my head in my book. I must have read a few sentences and I don’t know how much time passed, but I heard as soft as a child speaks.

“It was my brothers. Thank You.”

I didn’t know what to say. Should I ask about his brother? I was sure he wouldn’t say anything back. I didn’t know. I looked back at him and smiled, and he smiled back at me. Then I said “Bye” and got on my tube. And that was that. He watched me roll by as the train pulled off, and still he sat there with a smile on his face. For some reason though I felt good.

I see him every now and again when I use the tube, and now he smiles at me and I sit down next to him. We haven’t spoken since; maybe those two little sentences will be the only things we say to each other. I more than likely didn’t make much of an impact on his day, but then again maybe I did. All I know is for some reason now, whenever I see him, I get a little smile from a stranger. That’s not the worst thing that can happen in a day.