Posing Questions

I pulled into a parking lot and left my car in the first available spot. It was Saturday night and the parking lot was crowded. There was a young lady telling her friends about my height. This incited the curiosity of her comrades. The largest of the bunch approached me and asked my height. I didn't break stride so she turned to walk with me. After my rote response, she said that was a mere 5'11". I didn't have any witty remarks or clever comebacks. Despite the lack of levity, the bold bunch of buddies burst into laughter upon the conclusion of our conversation. The lady returned to the easily entertained entourage and I continued walking. Ahead was the Harbor District on Lake Ray Hubbard. The back side of a massive movie theater formed the first part of The Harbor. It was dark all around the theater. The sun had set an hour ago and the shopping center didn't care to see anyone who wasn't inside their stores. I walked around to the front of the theater and followed a walkway. Here, the light from the lakeside restaurants lit up the walkway. Dozens of tables created outside seating areas for each of the restaurants. Nearly all were full, and there were only a few open seats. A 3 foot metal fence lined the lakeside dining area of a Mexican restaurant. Just outside the fence was a brown Labrador Retriever lying quietly. His family was confined to a small fenced in area where they were given food and water. The dog was free of any physical restrictions, but simply waited only an arm's length from his parents inside the fence. I walked around the corner where there were more restaurants that overlooked the lake. A young boy was hammering out classical music on a cheap keyboard setup on the edge of the harbor. The sound was barely loud enough to be heard more than a few dozen yards away. Somehow the area was noisy. There was little wind, so the lake was not crashing its waves upon the shore. The people there all moved at the pace of a Saturday night on the lake. Their footsteps were hushed as a result. Many more simply sat along the pier and watched the lake. Sound carried well across the lake, so I may have heard the noise of a distant party.
As I walked away from the lake back to my car, the air grew slowly quieter and I could hear my name echoing across the empty field. Contrary to popular belief, I'm not that vain, so I turned around. Standing along the empty side wall of the movie theater about 20 yards away was a young man and lady. They were peering into the dark field from a cone of light cast by a security spotlight. I could see the two people standing there without apparent intention. The ticket booth was around the front, but I didn't tell them that. I didn't say anything but again heard a faint "Mr. Lehmann". As I approached the source of the sound, I asked openly if I had heard my name. The young man responded in the affirmative and said, "I thought that was you". Indeed it was me. His statement was correct but his assumptions proved to be less than so. I greeted him casually and he did the same. In the dim night air, he noticed something. "You cut your hair!" he exclaimed, without implication of a compliment. This kid was right on the money. I had cut my hair about two weeks ago. What else did he know? I didn't wait to find out and decided to turn the tables. I began grilling him with questions. "How have you been?" I asked. He said that he was good, and anxiously awaited another question. As he lilted back and forth, he wore a jovial expression. His bold greeting contrasted strangely with his now reserved responses. Who was this guy? I decided to ratchet up the questioning. It was time for a rhetorical question. "Beautiful night to be outside, isn't it?" I knew the answer, but did he? He threw a quizzical glance at his female companion and then responded. "It sure is." This guy was sharp. He never asked his own questions and kept calling me "Mr. Lehmann". I asked if he had been working or possibly studying hard. He said that he did neither and suggested that college was easy. This he said with a dismissive tone and a confident grin. I decided to call his bluff. "Really?" College was not usually easy. Perhaps he really was "good" as he so readily called himself. If not, maybe he had great high school teachers that prepared him well for college. He may not have remembered many of his teachers, but he remembered Mr. Lehmann. That was all I needed to know, and ceased my line of questioning. I bid him good night and headed back to my car.