“So where are you from?” an attractive Irish boy with soft features and a kind face inquired. We were standing outside Turks Head, a club in the Temple Bar area. We had exchanged introductions after he generously offered to light my cigarette. Even under the dim light I remember thinking he was cute with his light hair and eyes. We were both bundled up in layers, yet still shivering from the damp chill of the night. I learned that he was from Tipperary, currently living in Dublin and had recently been to New York City looking for work as a fireman. “I want to live in New York” he continued. “No you don’t, its so much cleaner here!” I retorted with a laugh. I shared with him that I was from Boston, and was visiting Dublin with my school to take a class. We briefly touched upon other topics such as cultural differences. “The customer service here is awful!” I nearly shouted. I keep finding myself whining about the same topic since I am a waitress back home. He laughed in agreement.
It was about 1a.m. and we were talking and smoking under the dim glow of the street light. Once strangers only a few moments ago, now we were chatting away like old friends. There were only 2 other men standing outside with us, talking and smoking in hushed tones.
As the cigarette burned closer and closer to the filter, I realized we would soon be walking out of each others lives as quickly as we had entered them. Meeting as strangers and leaving as friends. I knew we’d never see each other again after tonight. He would fade into an almost extinct memory. As we parted ways, I thanked him for the light and he thanked me for sharing my cigarette. I glanced back at him to get one last glimpse of his soft face before he disappeared into the darkness.
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