Don't be a stranger

“People are strange when you're a stranger. Faces look ugly when you're alone.” ~ The Doors

There’s truth to the song lyrics above. Fortunately people don’t have to remain strangers. They don’t have to feel alone. And you can be the person to make it so.

How?

Talk to people. Talk to people everywhere. Well, everywhere it’s appropriate. And it’s appropriate in many more places than you might think. It’s appropriate to talk to people while you’re standing in line at the grocery store, bank, or deli. It’s appropriate while waiting on your oil change or doctor. It’s appropriate at the gym. It’s not appropriate if you’re watching a movie or in the stall of a public restroom.

A lot of people are hoping someone will notice them. They want to be acknowledged. They want to know someone thinks they’re special, thinks they’re worth talking to. A lot of people will love it if you strike up a conversation with them. No, not everyone will. You will be rebuffed and rejected. But so what? You’ve lost nothing by trying to start a conversation. More often people will be receptive and you’ll meet interesting people.

There are tricks to starting conversations with strangers. The biggest one is that you have to set your ego aside. If you want to engage someone else, find out about them. Ask them questions. It’s okay to start with innocuous ones – what do they think about the Muzak version of the song that’s playing – or about something that’s going on where you are (shared experience). The more you do it the easier you’ll find it and the more ways of starting a conversation you’ll discover.

Generally, people like to talk about themselves. And a lot of people are starved for opportunities to do so. Ask people about themselves. Show a genuine interest in what they have to say. Listen to their answers and offer thoughtful responses. Show each person that you know they are valuable.

Chances are most conversations will remain just chance encounters that help pass the time and give you a glimpse into someone else’s life. Every now and again, though, one of these conversations will lead to more. You’ll discover a true connection, a spark, and you’ll have made a new friend or business associate.

Will you spend just five minutes today to keep someone from remaining a stranger?

Check the Date

We all fear rejection. Which is why asking someone on a date is a hard thing to do. But being wishy-washy about asking someone on a date -- that's can be even worse.

I helped out one of the new employees at work -- showed him how to save a ton of time on a particular project by automating the data entry. Friday he came by my cube.

"I want to thank you again for helping me out. You saved me a lot of work. Will you let me thank you by taking you out to dinner on Saturday."

Keep in my mind that he's talking to me in the middle of the workday, at my cube, and there are plenty of our coworkers around who hear him. The situation makes it seem much less like he's asking me out, and more like it really is a thank you dinner. Plus, as Chuck Klosterman points out in Downtown Owl, the people around here are friendly but not particularly interested in becoming friends. He's been here a month and is probably as starved for a non-work conversation as I am.

Even recognizing he might be asking as a date, I said yes, because he didn't say it was a date. He said it was a thank you. I try to take people at their word.

Also, generally if someone couches a date in other terms, they don't make it extremely date-like. They take the dinner (or whatever) as a time to gauge whether or not a real date is a possibility.

So we go to dinner. There's a yellow rose in a vase on the table. Jazz is playing softly in the background. It's nice. This is Dickinson. There are few vegetarian options on the menu. I order an entrée salad. He orders steak. We have a nice dinner, good conversation. After dinner, as we're leaving, he tells me to take the rose. I figure he's joking; who takes the flower from a restaurant table. I laugh and say no. He insists. After a couple of moments of this I realize there are no roses on any other tables. I take the vase and flower, but my comfort level has dropped.

At least it's a yellow rose, I think. That's the rose for friendship. *Maybe* that's how he means it. (It's amazing what we tell ourselves, isn't it?)

I've already agreed to stop at his apartment. He's ordering some new furniture, and has told me he wants a second opinion on how it will look. On our way to his apartment, I let him know that I can't stay late; I still have work to catch up on tonight.

He gives me a brief tour of his apartment. It's very nice. Mine feels squalid in comparison. He said he wanted honest opinions, so I give him mine. He wants to show off his stereo system -- something he had talked passionately about at dinner. So he puts on a CD. We discuss a range of topics from flamenco to the multiverse. He seems surprised that I can follow the conversation, that I have heard of the multiverse or the golden ratio. I'm surprised that he's used to people who can't follow that discussion, who don't know of these things. I remind him I have to work. We talk a bit more.

And he gives me a box of truffles. Okay, now I can't pretend to myself that he doesn't mean this as a date. Once again, my comfort level drops.

And as we're leaving for him to take me home, he steals a kiss. Now, regardless of what happens later, he can't pretend that it's not meant as a date.

Comfort level: sub-basement.

On the drive home he asks if I'm involved with anyone.

"Sort of."

"'Sort of,' like it's ending?"

"'Sort of,' in that we're trying to figure out where we're going."

"Then I apologize for stealing that kiss."

Though I half want to rail at him for turning what could have been a friendly, getting-to-know-you dinner into an uncomfortable evening, I tell him it's okay.

"Then can I steal another?"

Why couldn't he have been that up front in the first place? Yes, at this point the audacity or courage or whatever you want to call it was inappropriate, but it would have been absolutely appropriate for him to squirrel his courage when he invited me to dinner instead of hiding behind "Thank you." It wouldn't have taken five minutes to tell me what he actually had in mind. And it would have saved us both discomfort and embarrassment.

How can you make your wishes clear in just five minutes?