I.  The Needy

The entire song he is looking me in the eye without moving. A little unnerved, but taking it as flattery, I ham up my performance hoping to get a good tip. He looks young, but his dark beard is full. His face looks lost and forlorn. There is something else there too, a little bit of madness, the subdued quiet kind that is more sad than threatening. I finish the song and he walks up.

“I really like your music,” he says timidly. I can’t help but be disappointed when people compliment me without tipping. Even if they do seem a little strange, strange people carry change too.

“Thanks man.”

“Um, you’re a really good guitarist.

“Not really, trust me.”

“Do you... do you give guitar lessons?”

“Naw, sorry, I’m really not that good. Guitar’s pretty easy to learn though. Just get a chord chart and drill Bob Dylan tunes. You’ll see. It’s just about the easiest instrument there is to pick up. Almost all my songs are only three chords or so.” His expression never changes and he looks at me in silence for a long time like he’s about to say something. He seems awkward and needy and I feel bad, but I’ve always been a little socially awkward myself and didn’t know what to say either. I want to keep playing more songs before the train comes, but the way he looks at me as if deeply engrossed in our lack of conversation I feel like it would be rude, like cutting him off in mid silence.

Finally his sad, lost expression brightens just a little. “Um, will you be my friend?”

I freeze up. The nice guy in me, the one who writes songs about being there for the people that no one else needs, wants desperately to say ‘Of course! Sure, lets go get a beer right now! (can you spot me one? I’ll get you back.)’ But I don’t. I’d like to say I was just being cautious, but really it’s something a little less streetwise and a little more of just not wanting to get entangled in someone else’s problem filled life when I already had enough problems of my own.

The train starts to pull in and he is still looking at me expectantly. “Sorry man, I’m kind of busy these days and I don’t really...” I trail off. He nods as if this was what he expected. “I’ll see you around though,” I offer.

“Yeah, sure,” he turns around to board the train giving me one last dejected look as he steps on. I would feel worse if it wasn’t the same expression he usually seemed to carry.