It Tastes Like Evaporated Milk

I think people are hilarious. As I grow older, I am beginning to realize that I love the quirkiness and differences that are inevitable in people. A few weeks ago, I was on the treadmill next to a man wearing black knee socks, black shoes, black dress shorts and a black fanny pack. I smiled as I saw him stand on the treadmill and begin his very sensible workout; not too fast or exciting. It may sound strange for me to say that his oddness made me happy, but it did. I felt this strange affection for him and his fanny pack because it told me so much about him, or at least my idea of him. He probably has a nice life with a sensible wife and a normal home, nothing out of the ordinary in the decor. He drives a mini-van and wears his seatbelt. His radio is tuned to the station that plays "The best in lite favorites," and plays quietly, only as a backdrop to his thoughts on the ride home from work, and not intrusively as a source of any emotional release or outlet. He knows who he is and what he is all about, and a part of me loves him for that. His predictability is his quirkiness, and I think it is beautiful.
I went to dinner last night with a group of people that, except for one, I do not know very well, and I was reminded of how funny and strange people are. We were served a desert that I had never seen before. It was simply strawberries and cream, but because the restaurant was exotic, it felt like something much more than just strawberries and cream. A girl at our table, that I always find quirky and amusing, said "It tastes like evaporated milk!" She did not use her quiet voice, and my friend and I thought this outburst was so funny, because we always sit on pins and needles when this girl talks. We feel like she is going to say something that will embarrass us or herself at any moment. This was one of those moments when I felt like the guy on the treadmill: uptight and sensible with an emotional fanny pack on. Why would I care what she says or be embarrassed by her outbursts? I don't know the answer, but I may not be as free-spirited as I think. I may be more conscious of the gaze of others than I like to think. I found myself thinking about it and laughing today, but the truth is, it did taste like evaporated milk, but I would have been too afraid to say that.