peter
This is how I met Peter.
I was sitting at a local pub around the corner from where I’m going to be living in Seattle, trying it out as spot for me to write, a home away from home. I was engrossed in my free-write with my earphones in, and he came up to the counter wearing a blue service shirt and a blue cap. I couldn’t tell if he was hip or if he was delivering something. He was friends with the bartenders so he would talk to them, then leave, then come back again. I never caught him looking at me, but I just had a feeling I was on his radar.
When I was packing up my things to leave, he came up and asked the bartender if he heard about what happened to Tom, the Bears fan. The bartender said he heard he went to the Seahawks game and got pickpocketed. He told him Tom was wearing sweatpants and it just fell out of his pocket. But someone did spend his money.
I had taken out one of my earphones to listen to the story as I packed, because it sounded interesting. But I felt I needed to address one detail of the story. “Who wears sweatpants to a public event?”
He turns and looks at me, sizing up where I’m coming from. “Like if you’re coming from the gym,” he said.
C’mon, man. Sweatpants are never okay at public events.
He starts telling this story that starts with, “I lost my wallet once when I was living in Minneapolis…,” but he’s kind of looking at the guy next to him, not me as he’s talking, so I go back to packing my stuff, tuning him out. He gets to the end of his story and says, “Did you even hear any of my story at all?”
“Oh, sorry. I didn’t know you were talking to me,” I said.
He says he lost his wallet in Minneapolis, but that day, two Peter Jaeger’s had lost their wallets, so someone mailed the other Peter’s to him. He said it still had money in it. He mailed it to the other Peter.
“Did you ever find yours?,” I asked.
“No,” he said.
“Don’t you think it’s unusual that two people with the same name living in the same city lost their wallet on the same day?”
“Yeah, definitely.”
“That’s gotta be magic.”
“That’s definitely something going on.”
Then he turns, leaves.
*****
I went into the bar this morning to do some writing. Peter’s working behind the bar. He asks me if I’m gonna get some work done. He’s seen me in here every day on my computer. “Yes,” I tell him. “Last day!”
“What do you mean last day?”
“I’m flying home today, and then I’ll be moving up here in 2 weeks.”
“Where’s home?”
“Los Angeles.”
He tells me about his experience going to Los Angeles. He asks me why Seattle and I tell him that I’ve always wanted to live here, and there’s no better time for me to do it than now. He asks where I’m living and I tell him, down the street. He said he lived in this area as well when he first moved out, and it’ll be a great experience. He’s a midwest guy, Big 10, Iowa vs my Michigan. He’s the one who tells me I’m going to be very happy because this is the exact bar in Seattle where the Michigan Alumni gather every Saturday. He tells me I chose the right place.
He apologizes and says he never got my name.
“Julia,” I say, shaking his hand. “And you’re Peter Jaeger, who lost his wallet in Minneapolis.”
Yes, I am, he said. And we fall back into a conversation about that story, which I love. I tell him he never knows…he might still find his wallet yet.
As I’m leaving, I mention how I’m really excited about this city, how it’s a completely new beginning. I don’t even know a single person here.
He pretends to be offended. You know one person now, he said.
That made me happy. Slowly, laying down roots.