Anonymous

I received a FedEx package today.
I was driven to the airport in a taxi.
I bought some Sour Patch Kids and an apple.
I buckled my safety belt when a voice told me to; my electronic devices were already turned off.
I ran on a treadmill in the evening, next to two other hotel guests.

All of these people I glanced by today, with different levels of interactive depth, but could I later identify a single face? Not a chance.

I realized this when the woman on the elliptical machine next to me went to get a towel and I momentarily wondered if she had been my flight attendant on today's flight.
Maybe.
Maybe not, I didn't even really look at the flight attendant, I was more keen to get to seat 13C and get my bag squeezed under the seat before another passenger arrived to compete for the space. (I looked at his face a little bit more, but he was about all there was to look at for an hour.)

How is it that I can be so disconnected somedays? Or ignorant to fellow human beings?

I saw hands give me the FedEx package, and I was too eager to see who'd sent me something that I didn't even glance up to look the delivery guy in the eye and say "thanks!" When it occured to me I only saw his left foot retreating down the stairs to his truck. "Thanks!" I called down as I turned to go inside.

I worked for someone who I frequently referred to as the Mayor of our corporate headquarters. He knew the cafeteria cashier's name, and went beyond the usual 'how are you?' to ask a sincere question about the person. "You still playing basketball?" Going to lunch with him took forever because there would be a million stops along the way as people stopped to chat, or he detoured us to someone's office to say hello.

Sometimes I try this. But I'm ashamed to say: it takes effort.

And probably my naturally introverted self would just like to get down the airplane aisle without having to banter with the flight attendant, smile at fellow passengers and have a 'get to know you' with the person seated next to me. Retreating into a quiet personal sphere is the only way to manage the ridiculous lack of personal space in crowded airport gates (3 flights, all delayed, all boarding at once) and rows of filled seats on commercial jets these days. Am I allowed this coping mechanism? Can I be friendly when I have room to raise my arms to my sides and not hit three people?

I might not be hopeless. When I checked into my hotel the clerk handed me my key card and concluded our interaction by saying, "...and my name's Courtney, if you need anything else."
"Thanks, Courtney!" I said.