Assumptions

I went to get my taxes done 2 days ago. For no particular reason I was in a bad mood; the kind that takes control over your face, making it sneer or appear perpetually bored without you even knowing it. I had a 3 o'clock appointment at H&R Block, and I was early, as I always am. I sat down next to an old man, neither of us initially seeming pleased by the company of one another...maybe he was in a bad mood too.

He made a quick recovery from his bad mood and asked me if I had tried to do my taxes on my own before I came to see the accountant. I hadn't, and I told him so. My first sentence to him was a little louder than I normally talk (I am a quiet talker) because I am not sure if his hearing is still in tact, an assumption I make based on his age. (Assumption # 1 - Dude is old and probably can't hear shit. Or in a nicer way: Old people are often hard-of-hearing)

We continue talking and, in response to his questions, I provide vague details of my job and what about it made my taxes difficult enough to forgo attempting to do my taxes on my own. I realize that I am being vague because I'm not sure if he'll know what I'm talking about if I'm slightly more specific, and I don't feel like being very specific. (Assumption #2: Old people have no idea what young people are talking about...they can't keep up....brutal assumption, I know)

I don't reciprocate the question asking, which is very uncharacteristic of me, as I generally dislike people who are unaware of proper conversation etiquette and omit the reciprocity. (I blame this on my aforementioned "bad mood")

Example:
normal person: "Hey, how was your weekend?"
socially awkward/inept person: "My weekend was awesome.."

(awkward pause where normal person waits for awkward person to ask how her/his weekend was....still waiting, still waiting...nope. Conversation over.)

Thankfully, cute, chatty old man isn't phased and he tells me about his taxes and work anyway. He tells me that he is retired, but still does some publications of things that he likes to write about. I think this is awesome, but it surprises me slightly, and I am now intensely curious both about what he writes about, and about what his profession was. I assess the situation for clues:

1) He has a thick European accent (which may or may not be Italian, Greek, or Croatian. The fact that I have no idea and all of these accents are quite different makes my thoughts digress slightly while I'm listening to him and I wonder, briefly, what it would be like to be a linguistics expert..."Excuse me sir, I couldn't help but notice that you draw out your long A sounds and curl your R's. You wouldn't happen to be from the east-side of Zadar, Croatia, would you? Hmm, yes, I thought so....")

2) He is short and stout, with a very kind face and demeanor

3) His warm smile shows two gold teeth on the upper right side of his mouth, the side that I am looking at from where I am sitting.

4) He's dressed casually, in a fleecy jacket and baseball cap and cotton slacks.

Sooo, certainly not an accountant, given that he was getting his taxes done at H&R Block. He's a retired cobbler? He ran a bakery? A tradesman? His hobby writing is about the old country? I had no clue, but I'll tell you that he did not strike me as a banker, doctor, lawyer or the likes. I don't know why, something about the kind, down-to-earth demeanor, and some compartment of my mind connecting that to simplicity of mind? (Assumption # 3: He is an immigrant to Canada, so possibly worked as a labourer and is not likely university educated)

We continue talking, and I'm sure about one thing: I like this man. I really don't care what he did for a living or what he writes about, because it won't change the fact that he's a nice man, but I'm still curious. I won't lie to you, I was nothing short of shocked when I discovered that his "hobby" writing is about tectonic plate movement and seismic activity and how it relates to building and engineering, and that he still gives guest lectures at local universities who study one of this three books on the subject. PhD. Energy efficient urban research and design, and green architecture.


Cobbler? Baker? Skimping on specifics of my job at the university because I wasn't sure he'd get it? Egg on my face...

This man was a class-act: obviously intelligent, but didn't need to flaunt it or condescend you with it. His profession didn't define who he was, which was a kind man who turned my bad mood into a good one.