Now I know I've got PTSD.

I'm finally getting settled in, and since I was working from home today, I decided to walk to Davis Square for a bite to eat.  It's overcast, but in the low-60s, and the air is calm.  Still I'm stumbling around with a sense of awe and wonder.

Several people make eye contact, some even say "hi."  What does it mean?  After a couple of these strange overtures from the natives, I try it myself, but am only able to get halfway there.  "hhhuuuuaahhh."  It will take some time to master this strange Somervillian greeting.

The guy in front of me on the way into my bank there held the door open.  And didn't want me to pay him. 

Three times in the last two days someone who did not seem to be crazy or want spare change from me has actually made eye contact and, and, and...smiled.  Today, one handsome lad who could not suppress a smile as he approached, actually spoke a full sentence to me.  A complete stranger. On the street.  

"Can you believe this weather?" he asked.

"Hhhuuuuaahhh," was all I could answer.

I ducked into the Goodwill.  If another person made eye contact, smiled, or said "hi" to me I was sure my head would explode.  It's not that I wasn't happy about it.  In fact, I was overwhelmed. 

I felt safe inside the Goodwill. It's not a bad Goodwill, either.  It had that funky Goodwill smell.  They had tons of old books.  I love rummaging through the racks.  And they had some very groovy music playing.  

As I debated whether or not to buy a vintage copy of The Boz: Confessions of a Modern Anti-Hero, I thought I heard a voice behind me say "hhhuuuaahhh."  I turned.  And that's when I saw her:


With her hastily thrown-on wig, and that wistful look in her big blue painted-on eyes with the bags under them.  Her pouty lips parted slightly.  Was that a port wine stain or a hickey on her neck? (I think we all know the answer to that, don't we?)

I had never seen a mannequin quite like her, that's for sure.  And she seemed to see right through me.  She seemed to know what I was thinking.  She seemed to be thinking it, too.  We were having an I-Thou right there in the front window of the Goodwill store on Elm Street.

When it was over, I stumbled back out into Davis Square.  Is this love, I thought?  Can you be in love with strangers and mannequins and squares?  Could I be in love with a square? A square that's not square?

I think I need a nap.