Talking to Strangers

I once ran for office for three straight years in a row. And that meant I made it a point to talk to strangers. I mean, the point of trying to win a political election is to encourage people to vote for your ideas about your community or certain problems and proposed solutions, and that meant I talked with many strangers during those three years as a political candidate. Apparently, though, and quite obviously, I didn’t talk to enough strangers to win a political seat.

Realistically, I was a long shot to win any of my political races, anyway. I am a Libertarian and an atheist. The two are reason enough to cause quite a few people, in particular, Democrats and Republicans in El Paso County in Colorado, where I live, to squint their eyes at me whenever I mention that fact to them, which is never. Unless I’m campaigning and knock on their door.

El Paso County is very conservative, Christian, and Republican. Not bad. But for my political chances of winning elections, this was all very bad. I live in Manitou Springs, also in El Paso County. Manitou Springs is notoriously progressive and Democrat. Not bad, but again, this proved bad for my chances of winning an election, though I have to admit that I did not talk to enough strangers to win any elections. In the time since I last ran for office, I’ve discovered that talking to strangers is an art form which I have not yet mastered, which is also very bad for my future political election winning odds. But I’m trying: I make it a point every morning to friendly approach random strangers in random places at the coffee shop and ask, “Excuse me? Do you know the time? Oh! Okay! Thank you!”

Not too shabby. I mean, first of all, my cochleas have not worked since the early 1980s. To be obvious: I am deaf. To be understated: I read lips. To be redundant: Reading lips is tough work, especially when talking to strangers. And I ain’t about to complain here or anything but the point I’m trying to make is that it would be rather easy for me to simply declare, “I am deaf! I do not have to read strangers’ lips! They can read mine! Bahahahahah!”

But that would be very, very bad for any future political election winning chances I might ever have again. I doubt I will run for office again. But the lessons I learned, and there were many, as a political candidate remain with me, and my larger, transcendent goal is to be a better human being. I have flaws and I want to work on them, and one of those flaws is a tendency to avoid strangers to prevent awkward miscommunications like what happens to me daily.

“Sir? I am from Kentucky and I am lost. Do you know where the Cave of the Winds is?”

Me: “Oh! Okay.”

Well, I guess I should mention that there’s a little thing called social bluffing and it basically consists of a person pretending to understand what another person said in attempt to a) try and rewind the convo to figure out what was said or b)avoid weirdness caused by awkward deaf people talking to random strangers and c) all of the above. And when you add social bluffing to reading people’s lips, you’re like, trying to do calculus equations while juggling flaming grenades about to imminently explode.

Anyway, at the coffee shop this morning, there’s a large woman wearing a red, black and white plaid flannel shirt who seems to be talking rather bigly as she yells at the barristers. “THERE IS A CAN OUTSIDE!” is the only verbiage I saw. She seems angry, especially when her fingers were waving and pointing around the inside of the coffee shop as I sat in my too-wooden chair and sipped an iced chai. I discover that nobody seems to understand what else she says.

And I decide that’s my cue: I will approach this random person and start a conversation:

“Excuse me? Do you know the time?”

The woman pointed a finger across the coffee shop to outside. I looked. I didn’t see anything, really. I look back at the woman. She’s looking at me like she just asked me a question. I think she did. So I reply:

“Oh! Okay! Have a great day!”

And off I go back to my chair, my laptop, and away from a strange world. Tomorrow, though, I will find another stranger and strike up a random conversation. This time, I will ask another conversational starter: “What’s today’s date?”

In this day and age of the Internet, sometimes, I get the impression that people have forgotten how to talk to strangers. Everyone’s on their phones all of the time. I know I do the same thing, mainly to avoid talking to strangers. I know, I know: I’m working on this, too. And for many other people, it is far too easy to “chat” with a random stranger on Facebook, especially when the Virtuous Signalers start accusing someone of one thing or another. This is not good for El Paso County residents. Or for Americans, either.

So … just a little suggestion: talk to a stranger today and ask a polite question. Maybe this way, the world will be a little bit less strange. Maybe not. But at least we’re trying, right?

Be well. Take lots of risks. Live your life. Talk to strangers.

Stuff like that.