After hours

I don't know what it is with me being drawn to the nocturnal hours. I'm not just talking about liking to burn the midnight oil. I'm more talking about being out and about after most everyone else has settled in at home or have already gone to sleep. I was thinking about it just now as I slotted myself in for some after-hours grocery shopping at the local "open-late" store.

I think it has to do with the fact that I like to wonder about other people--wonder what their stories are. And I guess if a person is able to do things during the "normal" hours of operation, then I can make fairly educated estimations at their lifestyle fitting the 9-5 grind. But what of those other people? Why are they in the store so late? Why couldn't they do this earlier?

If you pay attention, I find that those off-hour shoppers are usually dressed in garb that tends to help fill in the blanks that I've drawn.

Scrubs = hospital/health care worker
Sport uniform = late game
Professional uniform = slipping out on a lull/break to get groceries
PJs = student scrounging on study break

The stories that these people might have to tell could be wild. And we all know how I love stories. Perhaps that's what draws me out at night--maybe to discover someone's story, or to perhaps play a part in it.
...

There was one time I was studying late at a Tim's by myself, when a man approached me and asked to use my cell phone which was lying out on the table. He was very polite about it, explaining that he'd run out of change for the pay phone, and would only be a few moments, but only if my air-time was free. After weighing it in my head for a split second, I consented, and proceeded to show him how to unlock and dial the call.

He thanked me and excused himself to sit at the table next to me, and turned his back for what little extra privacy that would afford him. I went back to my readings, not meaning to listen, but being aware of a complete stranger using my phone. While I tried to absorb some more of my text, I couldn't help but notice how soft his voice had become. I caught but a few snatches of his conversation.

"...I'm sorry, I ran out of change...miss you...are you sure?...please...nice to hear your voice...I can come by..."

True to his word, his call only lasted a few moments. He returned my phone to me and smiled through his thank you, and then walked back out of the coffee shop, into the night. I returned to my studying, but what ended up lasting longer in my memory than the words I was to be examined on, were those few moments of connection, lent to a stranger.
...

    "When you do the common things in an uncommon way, you command the attention of the world."
    --George Washington Carver

Or at least you command my attention as I secretly try to write your story late at night in the grocery store. :)