Taking Life with Chances

In June of 2018, one of my bros, his girlfriend at the time, a friend of mine, and I all went to an Above & Beyond show in Huntington Beach.

That year there were a few concerts right on the beach. My bro and I have always been huge Above & Beyond fans. To the point that we actually had to stop going to their shows for a while because we knew every drop before it happened.

The show was incredible.

When it was time to leave, we were walking through the parking lot to find our Uber when I had my one and only rom-com moment.

I could feel someone staring at me.

I turned my head to figure out where it was coming from and locked eyes with this tall, way-too-handsome man.

Being a bit elevated, I wasn’t entirely sure what was happening, but we just kept walking toward each other through the parking lot without breaking eye contact.

Once we were within arm’s reach of each other, we embraced.

Yes. Two complete strangers just walked toward each other in a parking lot and hugged.

He was much taller than me and built like a linebacker. He easily scooped me up and asked what we were doing after the show.

We were all heading back to my bro’s house to meet up with some other friends for a bit of an after-party, so I asked if he wanted to come.

And that’s how a random man I had just hugged in a parking lot ended up crammed into our Uber.

My bro was beside himself.

This was not something he had ever seen me do before.

I had broken up with my boyfriend of more than five years the previous October and was slowly starting to enjoy being single again.

My bro would lovingly nickname our new friend The Stray.

We went back to my bro’s place and stayed up into the wee hours of the morning, partying and hanging out. Eventually, The Stray crashed on the couch while my girlfriend and I shared an air mattress in the living room.

When we got up later that day, we quickly realized The Stray was gone.

His belongings were still there.

Including his shoes.

And his pants.

His cellphone was also ringing off the hook because his employer was trying to find him.

We were baffled.

He was in an area he wasn’t familiar with, and somehow he had disappeared without any of his belongings.

My girlfriend and I immediately started worrying and searching around the complex for him.

We checked the pool areas.

Maybe he overheated.

Maybe he went for a swim and drowned.

As previously discussed, my mind is a mysterious place.

The Stray was nowhere to be found.

We only knew him by the name he’d given us, which was a nickname. Other than some basic fun facts we’d picked up over the course of the night, we knew basically nothing about this man.

So I made the decision to go through his bag.

I found his wallet and his actual information and started calling hospitals in the area.

After a few calls, I finally located him.

In jail.

Not far from my bro’s house.

They couldn’t tell me why he was there, but they could confirm that he was.

Later that day, after he was released, he came back to my bro’s place with his mom to pick up his belongings.

I heard from him shortly after and finally got the story.

At some point during the night, he’d gotten up to use the bathroom, went outside, and apparently decided he needed to find his car.

The problem was that he didn’t really know where he was.

Or where his car was.

We had all been partying pretty hard.

He eventually came across what he thought was his vehicle and started trying to get into it.

Now, being a six-foot-something Hispanic man wandering around a Costa Mesa neighborhood in nothing but his boxer shorts, trying to get into a car that wasn’t his, apparently drew some suspicion.

Someone called the cops.

The police station happened to be not far from where my bro lived. When the police arrived, The Stray wasn’t able to give them much useful information about who he was, where he belonged, or what the hell he was doing there.

So he was arrested.

I, of course, felt like shit.

In my head, if I hadn’t been passed out, I would have heard him get up. I would have stopped him from wandering outside. Somehow I had decided that the grown man I’d picked up in a parking lot hours earlier was now my responsibility.

But apparently neither an accidental attempted car break-in nor a night in jail was the end of The Stray.

We’ve kept in touch all these years.

We still hang out when I’m single.

I’m heading back to California in a few months for a friend’s wedding, and of course, I’ve already planned a hang with The Stray.

I know there isn’t anything more to this relationship than a fun couple of days whenever our paths happen to cross.

And weirdly, it’s one of my favorite relationships.

There are no expectations. No wondering where it’s going. No trying to turn it into something it isn’t.

We just genuinely enjoy each other’s company.

And we always have a really good time together.

In every sense of the word.