Why I Love Strangers

Grace Street, 8:15 a.m. A man getting into his car smiles at me. I smile back.

Him: Did anyone tell you that you look gorgeous this morning?
Me; No, they didn't.
Him: Well, I'm telling you now.

I am wearing black shorts and a Yo La Tengo t-shirt; gorgeous I'm not. The very first person I've spoken to and he's a stranger who has made my day.

Yes, I know I'm a lucky girl.