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I went for a walk yesterday and the music in a cafe knocked a memory loose.I tend to write in my head when I walk so this mini story came out.

I was 21 and wandering the east village. I don't remember what brought me there since I was living in queens, barely employed, and almost completely devoid of friends. So it's safe to say that I had nothing better to do. I'd always loved the feel of the east village and, even with no money,  just wandering around the shops comforted me. I walked into Enchantments, the local witch store, and a man asked me something innocuous like "Can I help you find anything?"

The only thing that keeps me from calling this man a total stranger was that I'd seen him before, working in the store around christmas. I remember that because he'd been singing Little Drummer Boy in Klingon. Do I live in a David Lynch movie? Maybe. 

He must have said something like "Can I help you find anything?" and I must have said something like "I'm not really sure what I'm looking for." Both because that's a totally normal thing to say in such a situation and also because MAN was it true! My life plan had always been move to New York, go to NYU for theatre and film, ??????, be rich and famous. I had gone to NYU, which had made me not want to work in theatre. I'd never gotten around even applying to the film department and, instead had found that I had a real talent for short form solo performance art. Which, when entering the job market of late stage capitalism, is actually LESS useful than having no talent for anything at all. I was deep in the chasm of "??????" and had no clue how to crawl out of it.

I probably also remembered this guy because he looked like someone you'd expect to see singing in Klingon: Middle aged, rotund, thick glasses, long greying hair, and longer greying beard. Was he a wizard? Maybe.
I say that because I am NOT the type of person to talk to strangers. I'm barely the type to talk to friends. Most of my friends need to keep asking me questions so that I know they actually want to hear what I have to say. 

Wizard or no, this guy knew just what questions to ask. Next thing I knew I was spewing out my litany of sorrows and crying in the arms of Klingon guy while "Bridge Over Troubled Waters" played on the sound system. That sounds made up. I know it sounds made up. But I promise this actually happened.

He put his hands on my face and said "This eye is hope. The other eye is fear. Close either of them and your perception will be warped."

It's been almost 20 years since that happened and I can't really say that I've fully implemented that lesson. I think my fear is still stronger than my hope. But it was nice to have that reminder today.

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