Over the past weeks, I have daily wandered the halls of one of the largest medical complexes in the world, the Texas Medical Center in Houston, Texas. These buildings are so old, and have been added onto so many times that it now rivals Daedalus’ labyrinth of Greek mythology. I have yet to encounter the Minotaur, which the labyrinth was designed to hold, but I am on the lookout.

In my early wanderings, I stopped many people, usually doctors or nurses who were identified by their professional garb, to ask directions. I was amazed at how these busy people would take the time to direct me, and in many cases, change the course of their own journey to walk me to a point where their instructions would make sense, explaining, “It’s easier to show you than tell you.”

Now that I know my way around, when I see a lost soul seeking to be found, I offer my assistance. In so doing, I have had some interesting conversations. It has been fun, and I have made a game of greeting people.

Southerners, Texans in particular, are known for being friendly, and in the mass throng that wanders the halls of this complex, they are not hard to spot. They are the ones who will make eye contact with you when passing, and return your “Howdy” with one of their own. Often, this blooms into a conversation that lasts as long as it takes to separate in opposite directions and get out of ear shot. This has become a game, to see how long this conversation-in-passing can be sustained, and who will get in the last word to the other party.

Since I am the only one who knows we are engaged in gamesmanship, I win most of these encounters, which go something like this:

Me, upon making the required eye contact, “Howdy.”

The greeted party, “How are y’all doin’?”

Me, “Standing upright, breathing.”

Greeted party, “Ha ha ha ...”

Me, winning, “Yep, beats a lot of folks in this place.”

By now, they have faded out of my ear shot, or are still laughing. Either way, it is a mark in my win column.

My favorite game is what I call “Snippets.” It involves hearing bits of conversation in passing and wondering what they are talking about. Some are easy and don’t take a lot of thought, but some are complex, and are the most fun.

An example of simple, heard in passing, “Enchilada ...”

If close to meal time, this one is not hard to figure, but at other times “enchilada” could be an adverb, such as someone saying, “You’re an enchilada.” See what I mean? The game has endless possibilities.

Another one, “Next time, I’m bringing my seeing eye dog.”

Because next time you plan to come here blind, or maybe you expect the dog to know its way around?

The ones in Spanish are harder, but I have converted many of these into stunned looks by saying, “No, I’m not,” and keep walking. The game of Snippets has endless possibilities.

My favorite so far is when I encountered a gorgeous young lady of about 16 walking toward me caring a bouquet of flowers which paled in comparison to her. I was vaguely aware of a guy walking with her, who was way out of his league. They were engaged in a word game of their own.

As we approached, I heard her say, “... elevator, alligator, collaborator ...”

When we were adjacent, I chimed in with, “Demonstrator, orator, instigator ...,” and as we passed I heard him start with, “Mast ....” before they faded out of ear shot. I laughed thinking, “Son, you are swimming in the deep end now.” I hope he was her brother, not a date.

These games make me wonder about people and myself. I wonder why we have to be strangers in the labyrinth, and why I feel that I have to engage so many of them, but you have to admit, it is fun.

David Wilson Atwood is a local writer whose human-interest columns offer a unique perspective. He may be contacted at: www.starchasers.us.