Meeting Strangers

Despite the many scars accumulated in my attempts at being social, I still find myself experimenting, searching endlessly for explanations and a true understanding of social dynamics. What makes us who we are, if you like, but more in terms of the mechanics.

The stress and angst from work made me keener to reach out to the people around me with whom I felt 'safe', with whom I could be myself without fearing a constant backlash that never fails to leave me feeling like an alien. But as always, when something goes wrong in one area of life, all others seem to follow suit as one. Not only am I having a hard time at work, but the few friends I have happen to be way too caught up in their own lives to find time to just meet up. The irony is that when everything seems to be going ok, then everything really is. But in your moment of need... nothing, and no one. Funny thing, life.

Last week, I found myself perusing the flow of statuses from people on my Facebook and there was one that stood out for some reason. It was one from a girl I used to work with in the only workplace where I'd met actual nice people. You know, people who really behaved normally. People with whom you could have a relaxed social rapport. People open-minded enough to like you just as you were and where I met some of my best friends - which reminds me that there are some 'normal' and actually nice, well-rounded people out there, it's just that the majority isn't at all. This girl had started not long before I left that job, so we never really got to know each other that well, and there was also something about her that just didn't make me want to know her. I guess you could say I never felt any kind of connection.

In that status she had written that she was reading a very addictive book. For some reason, I felt emboldened enough to ask her what she was reading, and she replied with the title of a book I'd never heard of. I googled the title and found that it was a story based on very explicit content. Part of me was rather surprised that this girl didn't seem to mind the fact that she'd posted for all to see that she was reading a very kinky book. It intrigued me - the simple fact that she didn't seem to care what other might think, for instance.

Then I remembered how we'd bumped into each other completely by chance last year on the tube -in a very crowded train - on my way back from work. We'd told each other we should meet for a drink soon, but I simply forgot about it, and then I just didn't seem able to find any reason why I would meet her. We hadn't seen each other in four years - ever since I'd left the job - and even while we worked at the same place we'd never really clicked at all. She was just one of my colleagues, really, and I remembered only that she always came across as grumpy, or always with something to complain about, which was a turn-off for me.

Last week I thought: "You know what? What the hell, let's meet up." And so I sent her a friendly message and she agreed to meet on the weekend. As I got ready to go and meet her yesterday, that's when it sort of dawned on me that I was more or less meeting a stranger. It felt odd. The only thing to explain why we'd ever want to meet up was the fact that we'd worked together years ago. That's it. The realisation gave birth to a slight pang of anxiety as I found myself dreading the possibility of meeting up and, well, having absolutely nothing to really talk about.

We met and decided to have something to eat. As we were crossing the road, I said with a smile: "We can go to a Chinese restaurant, or something."
"Hell no, I hate Chinese food," she replied at once. Her tone of voice was cutting, to say the least. I was thrown off, while at the back of my head I just kept thinking "Oh-oh, what did I get myself into..."
"Um... ok," I said. "You really don't like Chinese food?"
"No."
"Ok... well, what do you fancy eating then?"
"I don't know. Anything but Chinese. I don't know the area, you picked it so you tell me."
"Ok... um..."
We ended up walking around  for a while and I kept asking whether this place or that suited her, till she finally agreed on a particular restaurant. In my head I thought: "Wow... my gut feeling was always right. There was a reason why I never felt drawn to her... that grumpiness... wow. This girl takes no prisoners."

We go in, and as the waitress greets us, she just throws a dark look around even the waitress finds unsettling for a second. I smile at the waitress almost apologetically and I ask for a table for two. We take our seats at a table and look at the menu, but even that seems to fuel her bad mood. "Jeez... grumpy much?" I think to myself, amazed. I attempt to make small talk, but she looks utterly bored. She cuts me off and asks me in a rather brash and dismissive tone: "So, what is it again that you do?"
I tell her about the title of the obscure publication I work for and she just stares at me, impassive. "What's that about?" she asks.
I attempt an explanation, but she seems intent on throwing me off all the way with cutting remarks that leave me rather at loss. "That girl really takes no prisoners," I keep thinking, deeply unsettled and yet at the same time fascinated by this strange character sitting opposite me.

The waitress comes to our table and I ask for a glass of wine. She scowls, looking at the drinks list, undecided. The waitress asks her what she'd like, and she just snaps: "I don't know yet." The waitress blinks (and I think: "Yep, it's not just me, here") and hurries away from our table. I keep a polite smile on my face and patiently tries to help her decide. Finally, after maybe another 10 minutes, she decides on a beer. As soon as I get my wine, I take a large gulp for courage.

We continue talking, and as I remain stupefied by her brash and almost rude way of behaving with me I sort of realise by then that it's just the way she is. It becomes a fascination rather than an awkward situation, and with the help of some wine, I find that I'm able to grin and bear it, so to speak. She helps herself to a load of starters, eating away as though she hasn't eaten in days. I'm a slow eater, so by the time she'd gone through five different min dishes, I was still on my first one. She glowers at me and says: "You're not eating anything. I'm the only one eating so much."
"Oh... um... I'm just slow, really, but I'll get there," I say, feeling as though I need to justify myself.

The conversation shifts to her job, and how miserable she is at work because she can't stand her colleagues. I tell her I can certainly empatise on that one because I, too, have issues of my own. She blinks and doesn't really take me seriously. Her problems are obviously worse than mine. I think to myself "ok, maybe her problems are really worse than mine."

She keeps on talking and by then the flow of conversation is at least set in motion. I order a second glass of wine. Since I'm at loss I might as well be merry. I realise that so long as she's the one talking, she stops making cutting remarks, so I play the role of the listener for the most part. By the time we leave the restaurant, I'm tipsy enough to offer going for another drink in a pub next door. She agrees.

Off we go, finding a table outside where we sit with our pints. We keep chatting, with her doing most of the talking, mostly going into the negatives of various things, till we realise it's already past 10pm. I walk with her to her bus stop where we part ways with a hug and as I make my way home I'm just left speechless -clueless as to what to make of that meeting.

It's such a strange experience... that of meeting people with whom you just can't connect at all. But I have to say her personality was rather fascinating. I just found it hard to adapt to her brash and very upfront attitude. There was no glimpse of social effort. No social script whatsoever, actually. And that's what fascinated me, I think. I'd never met anyone who didn't follow social conventions like politeness and chit-chat - or even the shadow of an hypocrite effort. And this time I got caught in my own game - this girl made me realise how much I do use all these social conventions.

There was this person, raw and brutal in her way of expressing herself, upfront and stinging. Not a trace of trying to please or caring about what others thought. My own anthitesis, I realised. It was like staring at an upside-down version of myself, in a strange sort of way when it came to social behaviour. So now I wonder: what does it tell me about myself?

Fascinating, truly... It makes me realise that I far prefer meeting strangers than I like building relationships. I like observing and experiencing as many different types as humanly possible. And with that in mind, I get closer to who I am, removed from all those layers of social contritions. Beyond that, it seems that one can learn much more by meeting as many different types of people than remaining immersed within the same group. It makes sense, and maybe that's why I was always the way I am, never keen on staying with the same friends for long. I have always craved constant diversity.

Knowing this it makes me wonder why the hell I have this longing to fit in. This is not who I am.