Are You Mean?

Hi.  Hi.  Hello.  How are you?  Hi.

I very distinctly recall that, when I first moved to Chicago, I would walk down the streets looking passers-by in the eye.  Well, attempting to, anyway.  If they happened to look up from their intense study of the Chicago sidewalks, I would smile.  I think part of me was looking for someone I knew (let's call it habit) and part of me was simply reaching out to my fellow mankind for a connection (again, habit).  But it's not so much the making of eye contact that I recall as the looks on the faces of the people walking toward me.  They looked at me like I was an escaped mental patient.  And as the years went on and I became a fixture of the city, I started to think people such as my younger self were.

Eventually, I got to the point where I would seldom look up during my daily jaunts through the city.  Part of it was safety.  The sidewalks in Chicago are uneven and/or are covered in ice 12 months out of the year and you need to watch where you are going or you will wind up on your butt (as I did several times, and as Grandma did twice).  Part of it was ego.  If you are looking up at the skyscrapers you are clearly a tourist and (a) are a target for mugging and/or (b) are an idiot who is about to get run down by me the commuter because you are standing in the middle of the frickin sidewalk and I am busy and important and need to get past you immediately and walking the additional two feet around you would greatly inconvenience me.  And part of it was "personal space."  While connections with fellow man are good, when there are that many of you in a tiny area, it's way too many with which to connect.  Moreover, most are those with whom you don't want to connect.  You don't like their coat, or they're asking for money, or they just look "funny"--regardless of your reasoning, making eye contact would be way too personal for a Tuesday morning.  So no matter what the reason, by year ten plus, I barely noticed the several other million people I passed each day and was fine with that.

Fast forward to today.  I have had many a fast-food vendor react negatively because I don't look up into his/her face when handing over my cash.  I'm serious. The tone of voice changes and some even try desperately to get me to look up.  When I realize this, I'm shocked, usually into submission.  Oh, you're a person.  Hi.  But the worst was when my son and I were walking to the grocery store.  First of all, this in and of itself was weird.  He was in...wait for it...a stroller.  And I was pushing it.  A number of blocks down the road.  Such things are unheard of when parking is not the most prime real estate in the city.  Anyway, we were walking and a girl about 10 and her mother passed us, as they clearly walked the girl home from school.  As she passed the girl commented to her mother, "Why didn't that lady say hi?"  Her mother answered, "Maybe she's just having a bad day."  I felt horrible.  I was actually having a decent day.  The sun was shining and I was outside and about to spend money.  But I have been so used to minding my own way, I offended (and likely scarred for life) a little girl. 

I'm starting to think there is even more to this adjustment thing than I had thought.  Changing your everyday activities sort of entails changing who you think you are as a person.  Anyone know who the heck I am?  Apart from that horrible mean old lady down the street who growls at Girl Scouts, of course.  Are mean people really mean?  Or is it just that our perceptions of them are unrealistic, unwarranted judgments?  And did I really just accuse a ten year old of judging me?  Little snot....