Life As Performance Art 172

It seems that there really are a lot more people out there who are willing, in fact, who are longing, to interact with a kind friendly stranger than I ever would have imagined. Oh, don't get me wrong, I am not that naive. There are still plenty of self-centred narcissistic little douchebags out there who would sacrifice their own mother for the latest model smartphone, but I still like to believe that that kind of pondscum, that waste of DNA, is still the minority and simply is not factually representative of our faltering, foundering and oh so gravely wounded humanity. I think that almost everyone, basically, is lonely. I also am aware that many of us have been so hurt, and feel so wounded by others, that it is really hard for a lot of people to actually reach out to others. Someone has to do the job. So, I have decided to give it a try. I talk to strangers, often, I just simply say hi to strangers on the street, not to everyone, because I am not crazy (well, I'm not that crazy!) and I simply don't have that kind of energy. But I try to say hi to a minimum of two people a day, random strangers, people I have never seen before, and likely never will see again, though you never know. Now I am chatting with people at the bus stop. Not all the time, but it just seems to happen now and again. Twice in three days at the same stop outside my building, for example. The first time, Friday, I was standing right by the bus sign, where the bus drivers want us, so they can see us all the better, and there was a sign of bus schedules posted wrapped around the street light, right next to me. I could feel someone right behind me. I turned around, and there was a random woman reading the bus schedules and almost walking into me. I smiled and said, it's all right, we are in Vancouver so I feel safe. She was friendly, maybe because I was smiling and joking about it, and we chatted for a while, and I also joked that at least here I don't get stalked and followed the way I was sometimes in Bogotá. Then, yesterday, Sunday morning, on my way to church, a First Nations man, possibly homeless, who said he was fifty years old, and was talking about having scored a drink this morning to help him cope better, and that he was on his way to the liquor store in Kitsilano, which is rather a pricey and coveted neighbourhood in my city, where he would spend the day panhandling. He also went into a lot of detail about why he had to finally start wearing underwear, going into rather an excess of personal information about it. Well, you never know what you are going to get while waiting for the bus on a Sunday morning. I of course also attract strangers who want to interact, and I suppose this is at least partly because I invite it. It isn't just that I'm friendly, and I'm not particularly outgoing. I think that people can often tell if you're okay, and that you are going to be decent and kind when they talk to you. And I hope that I'm a decent and kind person. I usually try to be, though not always with success and not everyone who knows me is going to be in agreement that I am either decent or kind, but you can't please everyone, eh? I only wish that we could all stay in touch with each other somehow, or maybe not. It is quite daunting, and exhausting, simply thinking of the consequences of staying in close contact with every single stranger I chat with. I don't even attend meetup groups, for crying out loud, and for the simple reason that there always seem to be one or two obnoxious idiots who end up hijacking the meetings, dominating everything and holding everyone hostage, simply because they never shut up, they are loud and have absolutely no respect of appreciation for social cues and everyone is too polite and timid to put them in their place, and if you do, then you also run the risk of alienating everyone else in the group, given how allergic so many Canadians are to assertiveness. I think the real problem is that our cities are too big, there are too many people living cheek by jowl and it is simply numbing having to cope with so many strangers throughout the day, strangers who simply would rather stare at their phones than talk to each other. But I still try with others. It is my one small personal step towards fighting against the darkness. It is all I can do for now and it is better than nothing, or at least, I really hope it is better than nothing, Gentle Reader.