I Don't Have A Dagger!

Standing by the window early this afternoon, I looked out into the sunny streets below, being a bit of a voyeur. I spotted a trio of white guys my age or younger walking down the curb that faces my window. 'Skater punk wannabes' I muttered in my head. I moved off to the right and opened the other window with a clunk. I moved back to my spot of observation to find one of the boys waving. I watched him wave, wondering who he happened to know across the street. His friends turned to him. He stopped waving, pointed up. They follow his finger.
Oh.
He's waving to me.
He must have caught the sound of my window opening and followed it to see me gazing down. Guys in a group get cocky and confident, wanting to prove something to their brethren, and spurred by that, I guess he waved.
Struck with a sudden shyness at being discovered, and yet filled with a kind of boldness at being addressed, I waved down as they gazed up. They waved back. After the moment was over, I backpedaled, sat down on the bed, and grinned like a mad jackal. That just cinched my day.
I moved back after my facial muscles let me look sane again, and followed their progress around the block. No longer were they punks in my books (okay, they still kinda were) but were now fellow humans who had something in common with me. I was amazed how happy being spotted and acknowledged by complete strangers made me. Well, okay, that sounds weird. Lemme try again.
It made me very happy that there are people out there like me, who like to make a facetious and fleeting connection with complete strangers. That still sounds strange. Hrmm.
Last year (and I may repeat it again this year) for a while, alone in my dorm and utterly bored/lonely, I would sit on my desk, which was next to my window, and shout out 'Hello!' and waved to the students walking by some dozen feet away and a floor down. It was amusing to have them look bewildered while locating the sound of my salutation, find it, and then go through a host of expressions on how to respond. Some of them squeaked out an uncomfortable "Hi" and hurried on their way. Most grinned at my cheekiness (or so I'd like to think) and responded with "Hi, how are ya"? or some variant, while still walking, and I'd call back "Pretty good, you?" And they'd tell me. Others simply waved back. Still there were those, usually in a group, or the rare confident ones among us, that stopped and had a pretty complete conversation with me. Good times.
That's how it made me feel. Connected and acknowledged, even for a brief space of time, and several hundred feet away both vertically and horizontally. Just for that moment, a kinship and friendship passed between us.
Even if they were skater punks wannabes.