Here in Athens, you don't have to know someone's name to know who they are. If you tend to leave your abode more than twice a week, you may come to find yourself known as a regular somewhere, where someone knows you as that person. Or, you might have a that person of your own.
You know, he's that guy you pass every Monday and Wednesday on the way to your morning class. She's the girl who sits in front of you in that class and never bothers to pull her pants up level with her underwear. He's that guy with the crazy facial hair that you occasionally pass on Court Street.
You know them from their individual quirky characteristics. You remember them because you see them repeatedly. They inadvertently become a part of your life. You still remember them next week, next quarter or maybe even next year.
In a town packed with more than 20,000 residents and close to 20,000 students, I somehow tend to see the same people throughout the week. Whether it's at work, Uptown or walking to class, I inevitably encounter someone I've seen or had contact with before. In a town with such a large population, Athens is geographically small enough so that in between thousands of strangers, we can stick out with our unique characteristics.
Whether it's your favorite bar, that pizza joint that has the best crust or a store that you tend to give much of your money to somewhere in Athens you might be known as that girl or that guy. There's that guy who eats lunch at The Pub everyday and always orders a veggie burger and fries with marinara sauce on the side. There's that girl who, whenever she visits Casa Nueva, orders a margarita that's light on the ice.
Then there are those nameless faces that we look forward to seeing because they somehow make us happy. The hot guy who plays acoustic guitar on Tuesday's open mic nights. The dark-haired beauty with the great laugh who takes your money at the checkout counter. The slightly older man at the coffee shop who leaves his paper for you every morning. These are the people we especially look forward to seeing.
This kind of community familiarity makes me feel at ease. It gives me a sense of connection with the rest of the town. It's nice to know predictability can and does exist in this world, that I can count on that guy to give my schedule some kind of certainty amid all the changes inside and around me.
Coming from Miamisburg, Ohio, a suburb of Dayton, I never had that community familiarity. In high school, I spent many hours and dollars at Taco Bell, yet I can't recall having the same kind of rapport with any of the staff there as I do with the people on many of the staffs working on Court Street.
But in Athens, I'm even that girl. I'm that girl who frequently walks through the double glass doors of World's Best Bagels and doesn't even order one of the world's best bagels. Instead, the entire staff there knows to wrap up a gooball for me. Those delicious balls of oats, raisins, peanut butter, honey, chocolate chips and nuts has me pestering owner Bobbi Six to spend the better part of her life mixing up what I like to call nature's candy bar.
It's comforting to know there are places you can go and feel like you belong there as much as the staff. It can be good when everyone knows your name or at least recognizes you as that girl. And sometimes, if you are a favored regular, you may receive perks for your diligent reappearances. In many cases, this can be a free shot from the bartender or a 6-inch sub upgraded to a 12-inch sub.
Maybe we know their names, maybe we don't. We don't have to know though for that certain guy or girl to have a special nook in the back our heads, in the front of our hearts or even in the middle of our nightmares.
I enjoy the certain randomness of our small town, and even though most of the time Athens seems too small for such a large volume of people, we somehow all fit in perfectly.
I just hope that all of us are that guy or that girl for someone, somewhere out there.
-Liza Martin is a senior journalism major. Send her an e-mail at liza.martin@ohiou.edu.
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Letter to the Editor
