In January, I listened to a podcast that changed my life. A phenomenology study from a researcher at UChicago found that my generation, Generation Z, is accelerating the decline of talking to strangers. In his words, we are “mistakenly seeking solitude.” Since then, I have made a promise to myself to never let an interesting stranger pass me by. Welcome to: “That’s Strange!: Unfamiliar Faces in Familiar Places”.
I have learned that there is the man who wards off bike thieves outside of Quack’s Bakery. Some Austinites invite you into their house for shots when Christmas carolling. The people who ask you to Lindy Hop at Austin Swing Syndicate are just the right level of strange. When you are trying to find the people who keep Austin Weird, you just need to say one simple thing: hello.
Week of May 18th: Greg²
Biking treacherously up the pavement sea of north Guadalupe street, I saw my saving grace from the angst of zooming cars walking in the distance. He was simple: an elderly man with a guitar case slung across his back entering my favorite Austin establishment, NeWorlDeli. I slammed on my brakes, screeching my E-Bike to a halt.
“What are you playing tonight?” I asked.
“Askdfhalsfjalskfj sf” my stranger responded.
The cars zooming by at 55mph significantly muffled what he said to me.
“Ok! Good luck!”
I zoomed away to pottery class just a mile north.
I could not get the image of the man out of my mind. So endearing and excited for his set, yet, I could tell the establishment was full of empty chairs. After half heartedly slopping some blue paint to my pottery project of the week, I insisted on returning to NeWorlDeli for the show. I was correct — the show only had one other patron, who also had a slot to play that night.
Before I got to my seat to support my stranger, a gatekeeper stood before me: Greg Bontempo. A retired man full of wisdom and even chattier than myself. Greg opened NeWorlDeli with his wife decades ago while raising a family. I asked him my usual question that plagues service workers across the city:
“How long have you worked here?”
“Worked here? I own here! I am out of retirement to cover for my daughter for one night only” Greg B. responded.
We shared remarks back and forth about life: ranking New Jersey counties, lamenting over the unattainable cost of higher education, and learning about his life story. My boyfriend, Henry, spent all the while roaming around and rolling his eyes as his looming hunger turned into hanger. Greg told me he launched NeWorlDeli after working in Big Pharma during the 80s and was fed-up with testing on animals and rearranging their guts everyday. Cool, but I lost my appetite then.
I grabbed a Diet coke and we sat back down in the sea of empty tables to listen to my stranger musician. The artist introduces himself as Greg (two Gregs, two strangers, one night!). Abruptly, he stopped, looked at me, and boomed into the microphone:
“Hey! You didn’t happen to be riding a bike up the street an hour ago, did ya?”
“Yes, of course I was. I am here to see you” I responded across the room.
“Right on, bike girl. Do you know Jim?”
“I don’t, but I can now!”
I looked at the only other patron in the room. He must be Jim.
“Cool. Enjoy the show”.
Greg played an original song named “Devil’s Backbone”. I loved it. More patrons began to fill the audience and we left.
Greg Bontempo, Founder of NeWorlDeli
Musician Greg, Participant in AustinSongwriter Open Night