Why Talk to Strangers

Among the many means of dividing people that seem to me to be legitimate is the line between those who talk to strangers and those who do not. I belong to the former category, but only by training. I do not judge those who are reluctant to chat up the passenger in the next seat on a long flight, since people have a right to be left alone as well and you never know what you're getting into with these encounters. I encourage them, however, to give it a go.

My late mother-in-law was gregarious too. She would make friends with folks such as the neighborhood butcher. That was back in the day of shopping regularly with a neighborhood butcher.

She was different than stereotypes, a Japanese American born in California before the Second World War, whose family operated one of those bygone single-room general stores at the edge of town. She and her siblings served many familiar to them and many more passing through; her brother was nicknamed "Coffee," because he operated the grinder when customers shouted out their order. She was loud, as are her descendants, not shy about sharing her opinions or offering observations that might embarrass family members around the dinner table. When she met me, she remarked I was good looking because I looked Japanese (though I am by ancestry Chinese), but I didn't have much meat on the bones (though I have filled out since then). Speaking up and speaking out made her successful and respected.

It's different in this era of selfies, snarkiness, terrorism, and aggressive panhandling. You engage at your peril walking down the sidewalk in Manhattan.

Yet there is something to be said about having something to say. It generates goodwill, and it gives us a sense of community that we yearn for but wonder how to sustain. At the rural University of Idaho, the path around campus is called the "Hello Walk" because the school president used to stroll the route and greet each passerby. He attempted to force everyone else to do the same. The designation of his trail has remained, although its mandate is no longer enforced.

He was onto something. Anyone who wishes to lead has to develop the ability to enter a room and then immediately strike up conversation with anyone who is willing. You cannot stand around looking lost. You have to reach out. That isn't easy. It's a good test of suitability for the role and responsibilities.

Some people seem to do it naturally, but all of us are capable of improving if we are interested. Awkwardness begets awkwardness. For those who wish to be followed, when you are headed down the hallway in a hurry at a minimum eye contact and a head nod are polite and expected. If you fail to acknowledge the people with whom you work, even if it is unintentional, you will not enjoy their support, whatever your other skills.

Whenever I lace up my running shoes, I am reminded of how I came to be loyal to a brand. Starting the sport a couple of years back, I happened to be flying home from the Santa Barbara airport. My wife had suggested I look into suitable footwear.

As I headed to the gate, I saw a fellow with a backpack that had the name of a shoe I had read about, which I wanted to try before buying. (I have omitted the exact identification so he is unpunished by his good deed.)

I sauntered up to ask, "Say, are those shoes any good?"

He answered, "They're the best. . . And I would say that even if I didn't work for the company."

We both laughed. I turned around, but then had one of those afterthoughts you feel grateful for later on.

"How about a coupon?"

The shoe company executive had more of a laugh at my brazen request. But he said sure.

Back home, I redeemed the code online. To my surprise, it was good for a 70% discount. That was over a hundred dollars.

The shoes are comfortable. The story of how I came to have them is one of those anecdotes worth the telling. It has a moral. Initiative pays off; we like to connect, if even for a moment in humor.

While I do not recommend talking to strangers for an ulterior purpose, this little example of what can happen makes me feel good about humanity. Sure, I received a benefit. It would be crass to hit up everyone for a special deal.

The more important point is that we should not consign ourselves to being anonymous in the crowd. We are capable of meaningful positive interactions if we make the effort. The challenge is less the misanthrope inside us than the introvert who also is afflicted by inertia.

All social networks start somewhere. An odd inversion is underway: we seem more comfortable introducing ourselves online than in person. We are not shy virtually. Or our avatars are not anyway.

Race and gender are factors. The context cannot be disregarded. Some, like me, whose cultural backgrounds have not prepared them for the onslaught of camaraderie have to overcome the reticence of their upbringing. A female friend with whom I run from time to time has pointed out that men who accost women who are jogging seem much creepier than they perceive themselves, even if the subject they broach is the sport itself.

I remind myself that in the balance of the universe, I now have to have to at least match if not exceed a shoe coupon in what I do for the next person who approaches me. Generosity is about reciprocity. It starts with dialogue.