After just making it to all my errand stops before stores closed and having dealt with the snail's-pace Saturday night traffic [and by "dealt with" I mean "had to make some less-than-legal, zippy Cooper moves"], I walked down my street with all my bags. Two regulars were sitting outside the bar on the bench near my studio.
Guy: "Uh oh. Here comes trouble."
Me: "That's correct, sir."
Guy: "You don't look very happy."
Me: " In fact, I am in one of the crabbiest, worst fucking moods possible." [I'm not even sure that's correct grammar, that's how crabby I was.]
Guy: "Do you need a hug?"
Me: "You know... I think I do!"
[big bear hug]
Me: "Honestly, I really do feel better."
Guy: "Dude, sometimes you just have to hug it out."
Actually, the kooky thing is I did feel better. The guy was one of those big lugs who's kind of boisterous but has a good heart. He has no idea that thanks to his inadvertent [and rather amusing] kindness I could easily put up with the loudness outside for the rest of the evening.
Sometimes you do have to just hug it out.
Saturday, May 15, 2010
A conversation
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3 comments:
I am a big lug. While I have not subjected hugging to scientific rigor, I have had many people thank me for my bear hugs.
Sometimes a little human contact can help us feel better about the world.
A good hug is worth its weight in gold.
Hugs are nice. I like giving bear hugs.. And a couple have been able to painfully reciprocate. Mmmm, hugs.
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