we all go on about the intimacy of the single-day childhood friendships struck up with strangers at the shore or the playground or what have you and yeah you’ve gotta love it. but I think we’re missing something compelling in the phenomenon that is. the opposite of that.
one time at summer camp I was on a bus with a bunch of other kids and this girl I’d barely talked to plonked down next to me, folded her hands, and launched into the tale of how she was the greatest beekeeper her town had ever seen. by sheer coincidence I happened to be in the middle of a massive honeybee biology hyperfixation, so I could tell she was bullshitting, however through some combination of social awkwardness and curiosity I didn’t manage to call her out on it. I just kept yes-anding and she kept escalating until she was trying to convince me that she was breeding mutant neon superbees in her backyard and could sell them to me if I could raise the cash. (we were 11.) and to this day I’m 100% certain that not only did she know I knew, she knew that I knew that she knew I knew, but neither of us would break, so we just locked eyes and played it out til the bus got where it was going. I don’t even think she had an endgame, I think she was just in it for the experience. our groups split after that bus ride and I never saw her again. scam apiculturist 11 year old if you’re still out there I’ll never forget you or your bees