Rowan's story got me thinking.
I was a busker in Melbourne's main shopping-street (Bourke Street) during the 70s and 80s.
Among many memorable experiences was the time a young man wearing a back-pack listened for a bit, then came over and swept me off my feet in an old-fashioned embrace. (after carefully puting my banjo down) He kissed me full on the mouth and then went on his way. Not a word. not a wave goodbye. Just a lasting golden memory.
Cheers, Joy