Unexpected and Authentic Human Connection

Clearly shaken after my hotel experience; I needed something I knew would calm me. Plus, I needed more audiobooks. There was only one option: bookstore!

Siri only listed one used bookstore for the city of Anchorage. C&M used books. I followed the directions, got there, parked. Nuts. Closed. It's Sunday, so that doesn't seem unusual, I guess. No hours posted, though. Meanwhile, one of the friends I've been texting about the hotel crisis asks if I'd like to talk. I really would, so I decide to just stay parked there and chat. Really, really good decision. And a wonderful conversation, too.

I'm on the phone for about an hour, and shortly before hanging up, I notice an older lady walk up and look quizzically at the store. She tries the door. She sets down her two bags and makes a phone call. Then she makes another one . No one seems to answer, and she just lingers.

I wrap up my conversation shortly after that, and, feeling brave, I get out of the truck and ask the lady if she knows anything about the bookstore.

She does! It's run by her best friend. She doesn't really keep regular hours, but usually opens around 2 on Sundays. (It's about 1:30) She's been trying to call her but isn't getting any answer.

I figure I can hang for a half hour. I've got a few blog entries to write and other stuff to do. I head back over by the truck.

After about 5 min the lady wanders over by me and starts talking. And she is FASCINATING. She's in her 60s. She tells me about her three kids- the older boy, the middle boy (who she calls her TDW, her tall drink of water) and the younger, a girl. The older and younger got her height (short) and their (different) father's coloring (white.) The middle one got his father's height (tall) and her coloring (Native American, which she consistently refers to as 'Indian.') All three are local, but she rarely gets them all under one roof. She did yesterday, though. Her daughter had set her up on a date, and her TDW called to save her from it and gather the whole family. Everyone loves football, but different teams.  Her's is the 49ers. She used to be a dancer, Native American traditional dance. She's been in National Geographic. She has a real problem with dirty old men, both philosophically and as a kind of a bad luck issue. She only let one man marry her. She works at the school as a lunch lady, but used to do all manner of things including bookstore clerk and Arby's counter girl. She's more of a leg girl, really, and the bus driver on her route has great legs. She prefers her men tall, preferably about 6'2, with blue eyes and red hair. (Close, but no cigar.) But she'll negotiate on the hair. (Did that come with a wink?)

I learned the town gossip, the family gossip, about road trips, about the bookstore owner. And every single bit was utterly wonderful. She didn't ask me much about myself, but I didn't mind. I was in more of a listening mode anyway. We talked for about an hour as we waited. Her name is Deborah and I adored her.

Through it all she kept calling her friend, Cathy, who owns the bookstore. She's hard to reach because she has dial-up Internet so her phone is always busy. Eventually she reaches her- she's running late because she's waiting for her pants to be done in the dryer. 'Just put on anything, Cathy! You've got a customer! He needs audiobooks!'

Cathy shows about 2:30 and we go in. This trip is already worth far more than audiobooks, but I do need them. As I browse, Cathy chats with me, about books, about my trip. About Deborah. We commiserate on the insane pricing on audiobooks. Sadly, most of what she has is on tape, and I have to have CDs. The most interesting CD one is scratched all to hell- I warn her about this. She thanks me. She offers to negotiate down in her 'half the cover price' rate because of the exorbitant cover prices, in spite of the clear 'no negotiation' sign behind her head. I settle on three - two short ones and a long one (one read by Allison Janney!). She charges me $22 for what should have been $45.

She's really interested in MY audiobook but I don't have any with me, and she's never going to be able to download it on dial up. Maybe I'll send her one when I get home (Hey Marty- can we do this pro bono? Maybe she'll buy some to stock?) She tells me about a different way to drive back to Vancouver where I can see amazing glaciers, and shows me the route in a map book. She tells me to email when I get home and tell her about it.

I love this bookstore. I love these ladies. I'm so glad I stopped here.

I'm learning something about myself. I have the BEST time when I invite people to talk to me, and then just listen.

I go to a park with good views and wander around. I consider an oil change and discover they are priced astronomically in Alaska. $50 at Jiffy Lube?!?! I get caught in a flash downpour, and have to jump out of the truck at a red light and get soaked to close the windows on the truck topper. I was airing out the smell...

I've seen all I want to in Anchorage. I drive to the suburbs to the Walmart on the edge of the metro area - gets me an hour jump on the drive tomorrow. It's right by a pizza place and a movie theatre. So I eat a pizza and go to a movie. Elysium makes me sad for the state of humanity.

The night passes quietly, though the blankets are a bit wet.  turns out there are holes in the bottom of the bed, for drainage- but driving in a flash downpour kicks water up through them. But I'll live. Long road the next day.

I get up early (8am!) so I can have more daytime driving, less night. I've got 15 hours to go today.

About an hour in, I get stopped for construction. I've talked about this before, but not described it fully. You come along a sign that says 'prepare to stop' - then you get closer and there's a worker with a 'stop/slow' sign and it probably says stop. And there's probably a line. And you wait, sometimes up to a half hour, for the follow car to come through from the other side with the folks going the other way. If the line is already long you probably have a shorter wait.

I'm first.

I stop the truck, roll down the window. Ask the worker how long it will be.

About 15-20 minutes she says.

We start talking. I get out of the truck to stretch. I click into listening mode like yesterday. She's got a lot to share. And it doesn't hurt that she's rather pretty.

Her name is Sam. She's lived in Alaska all her life. Usually likes it, not always. The job holding the sign is kind of boring, but it pays better than the guys digging the ditches. She likes talking to the people, except when they get mad at her. She has LOTS of stories about the people that come through.

A bus pulls up two behind me. The driver comes over and asks if he can check out some of the big trucks. She says ok. He wanders off. After a few minutes guys start coming off the bus. All in fatigues. They head for the tree line to pee.

Sam laughs and comments that they aren't shy. I note that military guys seem to pee in groups, like women. 

She tells me about a 'Hollywood producer guy' a few weeks back who asked her if it was ok to pee down there. She said sure. He walked down, then shouted back 'is this an ok place' and she said 'I don't care- wherever you want!' She was laughing about how shy he was.

The follow car showed up and I was kind of bummed to go. I was enjoying that conversation.

The rest of the day was driving, driving, driving, which is kind of meditative for me. I even pulled off at one point and spent a half hour writing in my journal and starting a new poem, all while looking at just STUNNING scenery. I'd come through this way at night, so the drive back was entirely different.

Back in Whitehorse for the night. Just a short drive today, I think, then new territory tomorrow!