How Many Possibilities?

At work last Thursday morning I was in a really great mood.  Especially considering I got there at 5:30am.  I felt like I had good news to tell people, even though there wasn’t anything in particular to tell. I felt like I had a secret, except that even I didn’t know what it was. I was all smiles for the beginning of my shift.

A regular customer came through, and we were talking as I made him his coffee. Well, it somehow came into the conversation that he knows Hanson because they grew up in the same town.
My mind was of course completely blown. Hanson’s Middle Of Nowhere was the first album I ever bought, after saving up all my pocket money. I had posters of them all over my walls. I did a school project on them in grade 5. I don’t care if they’re all married with kids now, I still love them.

As they were playing in my city over the weekend I thought that it would be awesome if he could get tickets and take me with him – but the cafe was very busy and he left before I thought to ask or to give him my number.

Later on, I asked my coworker what the chances were that she was working the next day and could pass it on.  She told me that she wasn’t working, but either way it wasn’t going to happen. I grinned at her, my eyes wide, and threw up my hands.

“You never know! It could happen!”

“No. It’s not going to happen.”

“But it could.”

“It couldn’t.”

“It’s worth a shot!”

I was having a bit of fun being silly and optimistic – I assumed that the reason she thought it couldn’t happen was because the customer was probably not actually phone-number-sharing-free-ticket-holding buddies with Hanson and realistically the chances of him getting me into the concert were very slim.  This may have been true – but a slim chance is still a chance, and how was I going to know unless I tried?

As it turns out, that wasn’t her reasoning. She actually didn’t question the likelihood of tickets – she just knew that he wouldn’t go with me.

“Why not?!” I exclaimed in my slightly hyperactive state. “He’s awesome, I’m awesome, Hanson are awesome! Why wouldn’t he take me?!”

I was, I think understandably, offended that she didn’t think he’d want my company. I kept asking her why she would say that, how did she know?

“He just wouldn’t do that,” she replied. “He doesn’t know you.”

“Not yet, but how else do you make friends?! You hang out with someone you know a little, then you get to know them more, then you become friends! That’s how it works!”

“Yeah, but not one-on-one like that.”

“What do you mean?! People do spontaneous things with people all the time!”

“No they don’t.”

“Yes they do! People have adventures! We could have an adventure!”

“Not with him you couldn’t.”

“Why not?” I protested.

“He just wouldn’t. It’s not the sort of thing he’d do.”

“Why? What makes you say that?” I persisted. “I’m not asking rhetorically. I actually want an answer. Why?”

“Just… his work… the way he talks…”

She couldn’t give me an answer that I accepted as good enough or specific enough. But she was adamant that he would never in a million years hang out with me outside of being served his morning coffee. She refused to believe that he is a person capable of going on an adventure like that. He has a stretcher in his earlobe, I’m sure he’s at least a little adventurous!

The good mood I’d been in earlier had vanished.  I was quite upset. It wasn’t until later that I realised – I wasn’t offended because she didn’t think I was worth going on an adventure with – I was hurt somewhere very deeply to be told that something could never happen.

How dare she tell me what is and isn’t possible?  How dare she tell me that people don’t have adventures? People have adventures all the time! I met a guy at a funeral for about 2 minutes then a week later he added me on facebook – when he next came back into town we spontaneously went to see a new band together and ended up spending the whole weekend in each others’ platonic company. My best friend recently went on a spontaneous drive into the hills with a guy she was friends with but never close to, and now they’ve been dating for a month. Another friend cancelled on me for the Aqua concert because he got sick and I took his friend instead. She and I had an amazing night and now have in-jokes whenever we see each other.

Anything is possible.
If you’d told me six years ago that I would go into comedy, I would have called you the joker. If you’d told me five years ago that I would travel foreign-speaking countries on my own and even learn some French, I would have thought it bullmerde. If you’d told me four years ago that I would create my own production company, have sell-out crowds in the Comedy Festival three years running, and co-produce a successful web series, I would have laughed in your face.
If you’d told me two years ago that I’d be playing a sport on roller skates and training four days a week, drinking protein shakes and staminade and doing situps without being told to, just for the power of it, I would never have believed you. Heck, if you’d told me five weeks ago that I could possibly pass my Yellow Star test in September, I would have burst into tears and told you that there was no way known (A few of my friends can attest to that.) Now there’s a chance I could get my purple star and be bouting by the end of this year. I might not, but who knows?

Sometimes you need a cheerleader for possibility and the joy of just living, and today that’s me.

I don’t want to live in a world where I’m told that things can’t happen.  Because they can happen, and they do.

I need to believe that, or what else is there?

Don’t you dare rain on my parade!

Anything’s possible.

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