To be honest, this one made me smile for a few minutes. Meeting people used to feel easier when we traveled or moved someplace new. Folks seemed more willing to look up, linger a minute, and say something besides, “Is this seat taken?” Nowadays, people are a little less social, maybe a little wary because of the temperature of the world, or at least the temperature of this country.
But in the South… or at least in the South where I was raised, you just talk to people. You introduce yourself in the grocery store, on the corner, at church, at the flea market, in the drugstore, or while waiting on your supper. We never needed an app for it. We had eye contact, a little curiosity, and the good sense to say, “Hey, how are y’all?”
I once did a stint in a downtown shop where our clientele was not just local. Travelers came through to see the historic district, then wandered into the shops and restaurants, sometimes browsing, sometimes buying, and always giving me somebody new to meet. I talked with people from all over. Some stayed for five minutes. Some stayed for an hour. A few left behind stories I still remember. Some of them who travel thru again and again, come back to say Hi when they return.
People-ing used to be more common. Now, most folks are preoccupied with their phones, heads bowed as if the screen might reveal the meaning of life, unaware of those about them. But honey, let me tell you… I am still the same. If your eyes meet mine, chances are I am going to speak. Sometimes it is only a kind word tossed into the air. Sometimes it turns into a full-blown conversation before either of us remembers what we came in for.
That is part of being human, after all, reaching out, gathering together, and becoming part of something with other people. We are social creatures, even when we pretend we are too busy to be. I met a couple of my best friends through ordinary encounters that began with nothing more complicated than hello.
I am traveling as I write this, visiting my sister in Pensacola. Yes, it is technically the South, but it is not quite my South. Maybe it feels different because the population is bigger. Maybe Florida does something to the brain, the sun, the heat, or the sheer number of flip-flops. Whatever the reason, striking up a conversation can take a little more effort here.
Still, I do what I was raised to do. I talk. I offer a few kind words with no grand plan attached. Sometimes they drift away. Sometimes they open a door, and I walk off with a new acquaintance, a good story, or a recommendation for the best pie in town, or a must see experience that only the locals know.
It is just my Southern way… look up, smile, and say hey.
You never know who might answer, or how long they might remain in your life.

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