Lessons in Humanity

I just got a lesson in humanity today. In fact, I got my ass handed to me.

It's rare, but sometimes even in my posh little neighbourhood, we have some crazies. I've even seen a homeless person once or twice. When I first moved here, I found it very strange for such a large city with an intense urban life to contain such a societal bubble. Now, I find it odd to see anyone other than a young professional around my flat. I used to feel relieved that I was living in a community where I felt very safe at all hours of the night but after today, I realised how sad and insular my world has become.

For the past two weeks - I might even be too ashamed to admit it's been longer - an older man, maybe mid-sixties, has been kind of talking in my direction. I'm say "talking in my direction" because I am ALWAYS wearing headphones and nearly always they are blaring Yoncé. This means, I am never sure someone is talking to me until I feel their eyes burning into my flesh. And his eyes have scorched me. He looks disheveled (read - old) with longer white hair that is tucked under a Scottish cap. He seemed to have no social boundaries in the sense that he spoke loudly but politely to everyone and stopped to talk to random people.

A couple of times, I thought he was saying inappropriate things about me, perhaps sexual ones as he stared at me uncomfortably. I ignored him and kept about my shopping or walking down the street. I never actually HEARD him say anything about me, butI did get that impression. One time I was at the self-service checkout and I heard him talking about me from behind. I turned around and he seemed to be pointing at me and talking about me to the security guard of the store (security just happens to stand where the man was standing - completely unrelated to his presence). I couldn't quite make out what was being said, so I ignored him and kept scanning things. I got the impression he was speaking about my appearance and it made me uncomfortable. The security guard seemed sheepish as well, so I paid quickly and booked it out of there without looking at the man again.

Well today I was caught. I came out of Sainsbury's and bumped straight into him - sans headphones. In my mind I thought, I have absolutely no excuse not to acknowledge this person's presence now and of course....he spoke to me. Directly to my face. And I felt like an asshole. I can't even asterisk the word, I WAS a complete asshole.

He was sweet and kind and reminded me of my grandparents. He just said, "Hello, how are you? I see you around here all the time and I've tried to speak to you. You seem to ignore me, and I thought I had done something wrong to you. Are you alright?" I melted, wilted, felt ashamed. I profusely apologised and said that I just always have my headphones in and was just a jerk. I owned it. I owned my jerkiness. We started to laugh and he asked my name. We had a great chat about where I was from and what I do. He's retired, Scottish but now lives in West Hampstead. He thinks I look wonderful. And not in a creepy pervy way that I thought before, but in the sweet way my grandpa would say, you look lovely today dear.

He's just very friendly. He is completely my grandparents' generation. Once I had spoken to him and we shook hands, I knew I had read him all wrong. In fact, I have seen my grandmother strike up nearly the EXACT same conversation with strangers and had them not react as rudely as I had before, but probably thought she was just as nuts.

I left that conversation feeling fantastic from how he spoke to me. He complimented me profusely (but not creepily) and we enjoyed talking to each other. It wasn't until I came home that I felt my true guilt set in over how I had treated this wonderful human for weeks. It makes me sad for humanity that I was afraid to speak to someone before today. That my initial reaction was that he was a creep, and even if he was a strange, it was broad daylight. What would talking to him have hurt me?

I guess I do have some hope left though, that two people can misread each other then still connect later. We did eventually get there. I know that the next time I see him, we'll share a smile or even some pleasantries. I just wish I had spoken to him earlier.

Sometimes we need to be reminded that we are all just people, living right next to each other. Our lives are playing out on the same streets and maybe our stories aren't even that different. I'm glad he called me out because I know I would have just kept on doing it. I wonder if he knows that he's changed the way I see people. I hope he does.