The Perfect Stranger

April 14, 2012 at 1:03 pm · Filed under Crazy stuff, fun stuff, Mostly fiction, Random Thoughts, Stories ·Tagged Charles L. Mashburn, humor, story, the perfect stranger, writer

I commented on another bloggers’ post this morning (this was the first time I’d read something on her blog), and after rambling on about whatever I was commenting on, and getting totally off track, I finished with an apology; something to the effect of how I was terribly sorry for babbling incoherently to a perfect stranger.

Later, as I was taking my morning power walk; that’s the one without the old dog, where I actually walk a mile or so without stopping. The two I take each day with the dog consist of me standing and watching her sniff the grass, trees, and other “stuff”, and covers probably less than a quarter mile. Lately she’s taken to wagging her tale while sniffing “stuff”, and I’m wondering what that’s all about. Is she thinking, “Wow this smells like bacon!”, or “Cool. I know this dog; big black lab down the block.”

… … What was I talking about? Oh! Yeah, yeah, yeah! I started thinking about that “perfect stranger” thing. The logical question is; what is a perfect stranger? To which the logical answer is; someone you know perfectly nothing about. Right? But that’s too simple. Oh, wait… I’m the guy who’s always saying, “Keep it simple.” So, sue me! I want to play with this one a bit.

So, what makes a stranger a perfect stranger? Nobody’s perfect; everybody knows that. But we’re not talking about just anybody, or just any nobody, we’re talking about a stranger. Webster says a stranger is: a person that is unknown or with whom one is unacquainted. Well, duh! (By the way, he says a bunch of other stuff, too, but this is the one we’re interested in, so bear with me.) And, as long as we’re seeking out Daniel’s (Webster, for any Aggie’s that might be reading this) expertise, he defines perfect as: being entirely without fault or defect. BAM! He nailed another one!

So with no further research needed, I think we can safely say there is no such thing as a perfect stranger, which by definition would be: a person that is unknown or with whom one is unacquainted, that is entirely without fault or defect.

So, the next time you think you’ve spilled your guts to a perfect stranger, do not despair! You have merely babbled a bib-full to a defective person who, no doubt, has numerous faults, and with whom you are unacquainted!

There now. Aren’t you glad we got that all cleared up?

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