In December of 2007, I was visiting friends up in Boston. And yes, I did say ‘December’ and ‘Boston’ in the same sentence, so all of you from the New England area can predict what I am going to say next.
Snow.
After a lovely weekend visiting friends, I trudged through the snow to the train station, to catch the train to the airport. I chose a bench, dropped my bag, and sat down to huddle and wait for the welcome ‘chuga chuga’ sound.
15 feet away sat another guy, clearly in the same predicament. Small rolling suitcase, oversize gym bag with luggage tags on it, and a backpack perched on his knees.
The train was scheduled to arrive in 7 minutes.
7 + 25 minutes later, and still no train. Both of us checking our watches, checking our phones, looking down the tracks trying to decide what to do. On one stroll to the end of the platform, I noticed a small sign with the phone number for the train company, suggesting calling if there were any problems. A few frostbitten fingers and some catchy hold music later, I found out the train was stuck because of the snow, and couldn’t be expected to arrive at the station for at least another 45 minutes. As I hung up, the guy walked by me heading out of the station muttering, ‘this is ridiculous’ as he passed. I told him about the phone call and he said he was going to try for a cab- he had to catch a plane.
Lucky for me. Within a few moments we were sharing a 45-minute cab ride to the airport.
But my luck wasn’t over for the day, and that’s where the relevance of this story kicks in.
We were both so relieved at the situation that we became fast friends, talked enough to discover a few mutual friends, and continued our companionship while waiting at the terminal.
And before we shook hands and continued on our separate ways, I learned his name, where he was from, that he had been visiting his girlfriend at school, that his sister’s boyfriend was good friends with the friend I had been visiting, that he started the satirical newspaper at his university, and that there were a group of them from the paper that were all working for The Onion’s video department.
As a first semester junior, I was not yet carrying my resume with me like a security blanket, but we made the connection with our career interests, and he casually recommended that I should get in touch with him once I graduate.
That was almost two years ago.
Flash forward to a few weeks ago, when I was at a wedding, sitting with a group of people who went to school in Boston. After sharing some stories of my job search, I suddenly had another light bulb flash over my head!
However, it had been a long time, and I had never done even the facebook follow up with this guy, so some of the details escaped me. But I had to try. Soon, we were all on a mission to find the name of the mystery man from the ride to the Boston Airport.
A few hours later, with many yearbook pages turned and tossed aside, we finally came up with a name. The name of the guy that his sister was dating. A few days later, one of the friends I had made at the wedding got an email from another friend (I know it’s confusing! Just try and bear with me!) telling her that the sister and now husband had just had a baby. So now we had the sisters name. And once we had that, we figured out his name. It took a few more calls, but this week, I finally got his email address.
So now I am deliberating. After all that, I now have a way to contact the mystery name from the cab right who used to work for The Onion. Is that good enough to follow up with my resume and see if he can help me?
My answer: Yes.
It’s just going to take me a day or two to compose an email that doesn’t make me sound like a creeper and gently remind him who I am. Then who knows? Worst-case scenario: restraining order.
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