REDDIT POSTS

REDDIT POSTS
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Have you ever met a stranger, who you never saw again, that you still think about on occasion?

My Grandpa had just died and my girlfriend and I had just broken up, so needless to say I was already pretty emotionally fatigued. I found myself sat in my local one night not long after my Grandpa's funeral talking to a girl I'd just met. We sat there for a few hours chatting, not necessarily flirting or anything, just enjoying each other's company. So this girl and I finished talking, and I found myself walking home to my apartment in London overlooking the Thames and Bank, the financial district of London. I went to bed the same as I had done however many times in the past. I was woken up the next morning by the sound of my phone ringing. I knew that it was the girl from the night before, despite not having her number saved. Truth be told I don't even remember giving her my number as we said we'd see each other tomorrow and do the same. A few too many pints will do that to you, I suppose. I answered, began talking, and next thing I know, I'm sat in my office where I work as a solicitor/lawyer. As much as I wanted to sit and talk to her all day, I had shit to do (the recent-ish RBS case, remember when their banking systems failed towards the start of the year?). So, we arranged to go out for dinner that evening, and
that we did. I don't know what it was about the girl that I liked so much, I think it was just that we had such an amazing connection. We truly were able to sit and talk for hours upon hours without a lull in conversation, or any apparent boredom. It was actually really nice. We sat and spoke for hours about our lives, and when we were all finished, I offered to walk her home. It turned out that she lived only a few buildings over from me (is that what a "block" is in American?) so we got to walk down the Thames together, holding hands. Believe me when I say it was the most perfect date I have ever been on, and most likely ever will go on. We parted that evening with a kiss, she went inside, and it was everything I could do to not ring her straight away. The next night, a
Friday, was a friend of mine's Stag Do (Bachelor Party). It was your standard affair, clubbing, champagne, shots, girls. We went up to Newcastle because Newcastle has some of the best nightlife in the country. We had a long, long, night there, finishing up as our hotel began serving breakfast. So, we partook in that before heading off to bed at around 8.30am. I was woken up around 3 (along with the Best Man and another mate) by the sound of my phone again. "Listen," the voice says. "This is going to sound a bit odd, but are you still in Newcastle?" "Yeah, why's that?" I reply. "Well I'm visiting some family in Durham and we're all going out for a meal this evening, I was wondering if you wanted to join? I'd appreciate the company!" The voice finished with a giggle. Well sorry lads, looks like I won't be making it out again tonight. Don't get me wrong, we'd known each other for 3 days by this point and I was terrified of meeting her family (who wouldn't be?) but I just couldn't say no to her. The thought actually struck me when I was in the shower a little later on that I didn't think I'd be able to ever say no to her. I was absolutely smitten by her. That evening was a bit of a blur, and was pretty uninteresting anyway. Her family were alright, we got on fine. Not a lot more to say if I'm honest. We were packing up, squaring bills etc. a bit after 10, when you-know-who turns to me and asks if I still want to go out for Jake's stag that night. "Nah, it's alright. I'll just head off and probably get to sleep. It's a long drive back tomorrow." She told me not to be silly, and announced to her family that we were leaving to go and see what the clubs in Newcastle are like. She bid
her Mum and Dad goodnight, we jumped in a taxi, and before we knew it we were at Tyneside. We linked up with the others and were loving it, but for once in my life I was going easier on the drink than everyone else - undoubtedly because I was very aware that the most amazing girl on God's Green Earth was dancing next to me. She turns to me at about 3 and says she's tired. "Come on, then," I shouted at her over the music, and took her outside. "What d'you wanna do?" I inquired. "Could I just stay at yours tonight? I can't be bothered to go home now. "Well, obviously I was thinking there's only one way this can go... Off we went then, back to our hotel. We got into bed together and kissed each other, and then a bit more, and then just another bit more. She curled up into my chest and started to go to sleep. Oddly, I wasn't even that dejected. I was just so happy to have her there with me. I was wrong though. Sleep, she did not. Her hand wove it's way down my torso before finishing in my boxers, and... That's all the information the internet will be privy to. We definitely did not fuck, nor even have sex. Pure and simple, we made love. When we were done, she curled up into my chest again. Then I hear a faint whisper - "I really, really like you. A lot." I'll never forget those words, not ever. Those exact words, the way she said them. Even the volume at which she said them. They'll stick with me for a long, long time, I know. The next morning she got a taxi back to Durham, us idiots fucked off back to the City, and all was right with the world. The most amazing girl in the world and I officially started going out, and after 9 months or so, she moved in with me. She would sit for hours reading and looking out over the City. She loved it so much, and it always made me so fucking happy to see her there.
Another three months later, I proposed to her in the same spot she always sat in, and about 18 months after that, I was stood in front of about a hundred people in Brown's Hotel in London (there would probably have been more, but by fuck was that an expensive ordeal) watching my bride-to-be walking up the aisle, about to promise to spend the rest of her life with me. That was the happiest day of my life. I don't think I'll ever be that happy again. It was nothing short of magical. People we loved, great food, an amazing atmosphere... It was my idea of heaven. We retired that evening to what is basically the Honeymoon Suite, consummated our marriage and curled up, talking about the family we were going to start, where we might settle down and live, just generally being in love with one
another. We drifted off, about to live happily ever after. I woke up the next morning and reached out to her, but she wasn't there. She went to the toilet or something I assumed. I gave it a minute listening to the muffled traffic before I opened my eyes. The bedcovers weren't white, they were blue. Thinking about it, the bed is a lot harder than I remember from last night. I opened my eyes and realised I was not where I went to sleep. I was not in a hotel in London. I was back in the attic bedroom of my house in Switzerland. And my dream girl was not coming back from the toilet, because that's all she was - a dream. As I came to, I realised I was left without an amazing wife...Without beautiful children... A job that I loved... Only the question, what if it had have been real?
Epilogue

I didn't get out of bed for three days. I kept trying to go back to sleep to be with her again. I cried and I cried because oh how
happy I was, and how miserable I had become, just by waking up. I was so alone in the world.
And what bothers me most of all is, she was so beautiful. So, so beautiful. But the thing is, she never really had a face. I remember
her wavy hair, and it was between a mid-brown to a dark blonde colour. And she had the most amazing smile, perfect lips, perfect
straight, shiny, white teeth.
And she never had a name. So I'll never know if she's really out there or not. And that thought fucking kills me.

fin

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I was flying overseas for a two year deployment. I was stuck at the Atlanta airport for several hours as a pretty nasty winter storm was raging outside. I was not in uniform, but I did have my military haircut and demeanor going.
I decided I would head over to a little airport bar for a smoke and a drink. The place was empty. I sit down at the bar and mindlessly stare at the TV.
I sat there for a good 20 minutes alone when this VERY old man approached and sat down right next to me. My first thought was along the lines of "why is this weird dude in my space when this entire place was empty?'. He orders a drink and then bluntly asks me what unit I am with, clearly smelling the soldier on me somehow. I, of course, don't answer him, but I just casually tell him I am in the service and I am waiting for a delayed flight.
Curious, I ask him how he knew I was in the service. He said "Son, I served in the Army for for almost 36 years. I can spot you guys a mile away". We start talking Army. He was drafted in 1942 and sent to Europe in 1943. He was part of the Invasion of Normandy landing on Utah Beach in the first wave led by Theodore Roosevelt, Jr., who was killed in action that day. He decided the Army life was for him and stayed the duration of WWII in Europe. After the war, he became a Drill Sergeant and trained new recruits. He was deployed to the Korean peninsula and participated in a several key battles in the Korean war. He then did 5 tours in Vietnam from 1964 all the way through to 1972. On his last tour, he was shot four times by enemy fire and lost his eyesight in one eye and the use of his left arm. He retired in 1977 as a Command Sergeant Major. It was easily one of the most fascinating and engrossing conversations I have ever been a part of. This guy is a fucking legend in my book. Three fucking wars under his belt and right in the middle of some of the heaviest fighting the country has been involved with. We sat there, just the two of us, in that bar for several hours talking and laughing and enjoying life's stories.
Finally, it was time for me to head out and catch my flight. I could have talked to him forever. He insisted on paying for my food and drinks. As I stood up to walk away, he slowly stood up and gave me what I would call the sweetest, manliest hug I have ever experienced. We just stood in this bar hugging each other for a while. He told me that he was proud of me and all our young troops and he told me to keep my head down and to come home safely. He reached in his pocket and pulled out one of his old challenge coins from his last days of active duty and handed it to me. He said it would bring me luck as "nobody will fuck with you while you have that coin in your pocket or I'll haunt their ass when I'm dead". He shuffled off into the crowd and disappeared.
I have carried that coin in my pocket every single day since I met him. Thanks "Jack".