International Nomad.
He had just moved to Chicago. Three weeks ago.
After living in California, China, Belgium, and more, he was ready to pursue another location. He knew he could develop himself as a musician by doing what he loves here in Chicago.
Day-to-day life brings him to Instacart and yet his nightly vision clears the schedule as he tells of warehouse parties and other events he has found the connection to.
"I don't feel like you're going to judge me," he opens up even more as we immediately connect and he begins to tell the story of the time when he traveled with friends hopping trains when he lived in Belgium (never once paying for them).
"If everything else fails, you always just pull the American tourist card. 'I didn't know... I'm not from here.' They always fall for that. Especially if you're from America. Americans when you are abroad are always stupid." The sarcasm dripping from his voice made me feel much better about my nationality and the fact that he wasn't calling me stupid was a plus. I agreed and then continued the conversation by speaking in a ditzy blonde accent.
"And I was like, Oh my god, didn't you like, freak out like, a little bit when they like, asked for your ticket?"
We laughed as he told the story of how he and his friends scammed Belgium ticket takers. Because they were trying to rip off the tourists heading to the airport, they charged a ridiculous amount. Interestingly enough when they claimed to not have enough money, the train conductors reduced the price. They paid the "fee" and got off on the next stop, jumped on another train and to continue to ride them for free for the rest of the day.
"So, what made it so that you traveled and moved so much?" I asked after he had exposed me to a few more places that he lived in each for a few years.
"You could call my mom a nomad."
I smiled as we talked more. All of his life experiences opened the door to completely different life than mine and yet it became increasingly clear what it was that I might want to be. He was so calm and so present and embraced my silliness and my weird factor. Our short conversations were understanding and yet telling when we confronted sexuality, traveling as a woman, religion, nationality, and smoking with open minds. I could see myself learning a lot from him. And at the very least having a lot of fun.
Next time I saw him, I smiled and did a little dance complete with duck-face and whole body movements. The fact that I felt this much at ease shows me how comfortable I feel with him. With no other intention besides learning about traveling and his life abroad, I hope that our smooth conversations keep happening and that a friendship forms.
As he flips his Justin Bieber hairstyle out of his face, he reminds me to take a listen to his music once I get home.
"Remember, as you said, there's always a right time and a right place."
