I was walking down Broadway this evening, making my way toward the Broadway/Lafayette Station, and this older Vietnamese gentleman taps me on the back as I walk by Tower Records...
It was Nhan.
I worked with him in the performance group I used to be a part of
, yet I don't know if I could honestly call him anything more than an acquaintance. However, he was always a sweet man, and though I am the poster child for misanthropy (not to mention the father of evil), I felt it would be more awkward if I didn't stand there and chat for a little bit.
(I'm sure the feeling was mutual.)
He was waiting for his niece. He'd just come back from North (South?) Carolina, for work. Work had been keeping him from really participating in the affairs of the aforementioned performance group.
He asked me about C.
I told him she was fine. That she's going to grad school this fall. That she's pursuing theater. He expressed his confidence that she'll do well because she's "really good".
He asked me what I was up to. I muttered something about making movies.
His niece showed up. A young, female version of him. Nose, eyes and all. We suffered an awkward introduction, since I made the mistake of overstaying the small talk.
Then, as awkward as it began, I smiled and excused myself.