We don't own a car, so we walk everywhere, including to and from work. We use the bus or ferry if we want to go farther afield. This has had a profound effect on how we interact with people. We realize now that the cocoons of our cars kept us well insulated from the people around us. Our genuine interactions were with family and coworkers, the only people who saw us stripped of the metal that clothed and protected us. Our neighbors, we discovered, were virtually strangers.
Sabra_condo Now, we stand face-to-face with people in our building’s elevators, at our corner hangouts, and on the sidewalks. We chitchat and pet our neighbors’ dogs. We exchange “good mornings” with the people we pass everyday on our way to work. We’ve developed friendships with several proprietors and servers at our favorite restaurants.
A restaurateur recently called out to us and said, “We’ve missed you.” Our neighborhood grocer loves to talk to us, because he finds our change in lifestyle quite intriguing. “What do you think? Are you still happy with your decision?” Our local video store proprietor has very decided ideas about what we should and shouldn’t rent -– he’ll actually pull DVD’s from under the counter and say, “Here -– I was saving these for you.” Instead of feeling anonymous in the big city, we’ve grown to feel welcomed and wanted, and we’ve become friendlier, too. We’ve discovered that most people, whatever their walk of life, are pretty darn nice.