Two old guys sat next to each other on a park bench that looked like it had seen better days. They were at ease and possessed the calm wisdom that comes with getting older. The afternoon was calm and quiet, as if time had stopped. The sky was blue, the leaves were rustling in the wind, and everything moved more slowly than normal. Two old pals would get together every day and watch the world go by. They didn’t need anything and didn’t communicate much.
Over the years, their talks had changed from politics and work to health problems and good memories. They felt better when they weren’t talking now. They would sometimes talk about a dog that reminded them of one they used to have or about the young couples going hand in hand, amazed that love always seemed to start the same way.
Then a young woman ran into view, breaking the silence. She was in terrific shape, full of enthusiasm, and wearing running shorts and a sports bra. She also had headphones in. She was definitely in her own world. As she walked, her ponytail moved with her feet. She walked like someone who hadn’t learned how to be exhausted yet. The old man on the right, who always wore a worn-out cap and had crow’s feet on his face, couldn’t help but smile. It wasn’t a smile of amusement or leering; it was a genuine, real smile that comes out when something simple or lovely makes you pleased.
He was surprised when the young woman stopped. She took one earpiece out, turned around, and walked up to him with an angry look on her face. “Why are you smiling at me, you creep?” she shouted in a mean, suspicious voice. It could have been because she had too many terrible experiences.
The old man blinked, surprised but not angry. His eyes didn’t show anger; they showed the generosity of someone who had lived long enough to know how often people mess up. He leaned in a little, and his voice was calm and nice. He chuckled and added, “I’m not smiling at you.” “Seeing pretty young girls in the summer always makes me feel better, no matter how bad things are.”
He didn’t try to shock anyone with what he said, and it wasn’t a lie. It was just an old man telling the truth. A terrific thing. The young woman maintained cool, and her expression softened as she realized how sincere he was. Her eyes didn’t look like they were blaming her anymore; they looked different. It may have been thanks, surprise, or even sadness for making an assumption.
Without saying a word, she strolled over to the old man and kissed him on the cheek. It was a short, lovely gesture that conveyed “thank you” without needing to. Then she grinned for real and ran away, her music starting up again as she ran down the street.
The two men watched her leave. The individual who had been kissed didn’t move and grinned a little. After a minute, he turned to his pal and muttered in a dry voice, “Three–zero.” It’s your time now.
The companion laughed in a wheezy way and shook his head like he had lost. He laughed and said, “You always get the good breaks.”
Of course, there wasn’t a real scoreboard between them. But they realized that times like this were more enjoyable. They told each other and themselves that there would yet be surprises. Little wins. People you don’t know are being nice. A kiss on the cheek when you least expect it.
They stayed together for a little while longer and felt better. Their unified chuckling filled the silence between them. It wasn’t only the girl or the joke. It was about being alive enough to enjoy both.
The bench was more than just a place to sit. They felt like they were in the front row of a show that was happening right in front of them and that they were a part of it.
