Ryan's Journal

Continuing adventures with random people in Boston. So I take the bus home after a stopover in Harvard Square to switch routes, and I often sit and wait there for the next bus to make its way through the station. Of course, it's a public transportation area, so the only people who ever talk to each other are those who are waiting together.

Today, it was just me and another guy, waiting at the stop. He started off the conversation by asking how my day had been, saying that his had been long and he'd lost his T-pass. I told him mine was good (it was), and then we just talked. He was very clearly inebriated, but nice. He talked about how he used to be a roadie, how he'd travelled over every inch of the country and seen every city. He loved Portland, Oregon, and Anchorage, Alaska, and Las Vegas. He hated how almost every city was so car-oriented, and only so few like Boston and Toronto were so good at public transportation.

The bus came, we talked a little more. He asked me what I wanted to succeed in, and I told him I wanted to get married and be a missionary. He gave a big thumbs up and said he believed himself. He called himself a "backslider" but said not a minute had gone by since he professed his faith that he didn't think about God. God was looking out for him, even though He couldn't be very happy with the way he was living.

As I left, he said he'd see me "upstairs" if not before, and shook my hand several times as I departed. He was very cordial. He was very drunk. He was very honest. I'm not sure what to make of this one. The Christian's witness is his life, not his words - but we're all at different points in our relationship with God. Right?

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