People are strange when you're a stranger
On Friday night, after Scriptless, I was (surprise, surprise) doing my thing at the Treehouse, when I was approached by a woman who wanted to know if I was interested in being the lead singer in her brother's Korn tribute band. I did a quick mental tally of the songs I'd done that night: Drop the Pilot, (She's Got) The Look, and Kids (apparently it was my big night for duets with the girls who work there). WTF?
Also, I explained, I don't really know any Korn songs. And they're completely not in my range. And I don't like them.
But, you know, it's nice to be complimented on your vocal ability by a random stranger. I went on to sing some Linkin Park and Led Zeppelin, but I still didn't feel up to Korn.
Last night we dropped in after the movie (which: omgeleventyone) and I sang a couple of songs. Then a guy who used to bully me at school (intermediate? I can't even remember) came over and apologised for being such a dick (he specifically mentioned regretting spitting in my hair on at least one occasion). He allowed as how I was a "bloody nice guy", and kept shaking my hand and clinking his beer against the glass of water I was holding. It was a bizarre incident, but by no means an isolated one.
Having been variously teased, outcast, picked on and flat-out bullied throughout my schooling, there are probably at least a dozen people [1] who, later in life, have seen me around town and felt the need to apologise for their transgressions. The funniest ones are the guys who have found Jesus and actually keep nagging me until I promise I've forgiven them, then go on their way safe in the knowledge that they are one step closer to peace and understanding with all mankind. There was one guy about three or four years ago whose name I couldn't remember at all, but whom I vaguely remembered as part of some sporting team or other who spent a whole bus trip up to Blenheim half-chewing minties and throwing them at the debating team (in which I was standing in for alternateb). I didn't have any clear memory of him apart from that, but I swear he was weeping when he threw his arms around me that night and whispered how sorry he was.
It's still a little surreal to think of myself as an adult at all, let alone a successful one. Yet the motivating factor in the majority of these encounters seems to be "I made fun of this guy at school, but he's actually done quite well for himself, so I'd better get on his good side, or he'll probably hold a grudge forever". Odd how people's brains work.
Strange but true: this is the first Christmas I've been single since 1997. When I tell people this, the reaction is almost always "well, at least you'll be saving money this year".
[1] Not among their number, I can say, has been the son of our current mayor, who was a complete cock at intermediate and high school, especially to me.