Now that I regularly commute in and out of DC, I've sadly become much like my fellow metro riders. Everyone else is always going too slow for my own pace, escalefters are the bane of my existence, and while I'm on the train, I don't talk to ANYONE. Not only that, I'm always attached to some sort of fun tech gadget, whether it's my phone or my newly acquired Kindle, burying myself in my own little world to ease the boredom of the long ride home (although even before the Kindle I will say I would bury myself in an actual BOOK). I often hear out-of-towners mention how strange it is that no one talks to each other on the metro during rush hour, but hey, that's just the way it is. In fact, I recently read an article in a local publication that joked about being stuck next to that person that just rambles on about random crap and won't shut up - no matter how many technological gadgets you pull out to try and ward them off.
The other day, I thought that I had found myself in just that situation. I had been texting with a friend to finalize plans for that evening and had pulled out my kindle to dive back into "Gone With the Wind." A few stops into my ride I spotted a prime seat open up near the door and quickly hopped up to grab it. When I sat down, the gentleman next to me, a man around my dad's age (who, I might add, seemed immersed in his own little gadget, headphones and all), said hello. I said hi back, then returned to the text I was in the middle of typing. Suddenly I heard, "How are you?" I politely returned a "Great, thanks," then quickly went back to my phone, attempting to employ the technological avoidance method I had read about in that article. Then, surprisingly, he continued to try to talk to me. "Can't he see that I'm trying to send a text and don't want to have a conversation?" I thought. Clearly he didn't, even as I had my kindle sitting open there as well.
Now, I know what you must be thinking, middle-aged man trying to strike up a conversation with a 22-year-old girl, kind of creepy. I thought so, too, I'm not going to lie, but he really didn't seem like a creep. After giving him a few short, just-trying-to-be-polite responses, I found myself getting into the conversation as well. After a while I realized, you know what, maybe I should just talk to this person a little bit instead of blocking out the world. Worst case scenario, if this guy did turn out to be a creep, I would just pretend I had to get off at the next stop and move away from him. As it turns out, we had a very interesting conversation. He worked for the Department of Defense and was studying Chinese on that little gadget he was carrying. He served in the military, worked with the Civil Air Patrol (which my dad was actually in), and even had a relative serve with the Tuskeegee Airmen in World War II. We had a very friendly conversation all the way back to Shady Grove, then got off the train and went our separate ways. He wasn't a creep at all, but instead just a kind gentleman that was simply looking to have a conversation. I never even learned his name, but he taught me a very important lesson that day.
Sure, technology can be great. It helps us stay connected with people all across the world at lightning fast speeds, both acquaintances and loved ones. But sometimes, we get so immersed in it that we forget about true human interaction. We forget how a simple "Have a great day" in passing can be just the right pick-me-up for a stranger having a bad day. We forget how a conversation in person can be so much more rewarding and pleasant than just communicating through electronics. We even forget about the telephone, another form of technology, but one that at least maintains a human element - so many people will send a text or email these days instead of picking up the phone and calling someone just to say hi. A truly painful loss is writing letters (yes, real snail mail), beautiful letters that hold so much more intimacy and which people put so much more of themselves into than a text or a message on Facebook. So slow down a little bit, take some time to catch up with an old friend or say hello to the person you ride the elevator with every morning. You never know how it could brighten someone's day, including your own.
