Social Studies

I've always been intrigued by social behavior. I don't usually admit that, as I child, I didn't have the grandest of aspirations at first. I'm pretty sure the first job I ever verbally annouced that I wanted to do was "Bridge Toll Collector" on the Golden Gate Bridge. My parents' first reaction was to laugh (most likely the reason why my second career announcement was stand-up comedian), and then my mom said: "well, I think they get paid pretty well."

My interest in the position derived from some sort of freeze-frame thing that happened in my mind every time my family stopped to pay toll on our way to the City. As the car slowed to stop and pay, also in my head the activity in the car would become slow, and by the time we stopped I would imagine a freeze-frame image of what the toll collector saw in the slice of family life that was in our car: My dad unstrapping his seat belt, lifting the right side of his body up to pull out his wallet, and sorting through the cash in the billfold; my mom retreating the visor after having checked her lipstick in the visor mirror; and my brother and I fighting violently as usual. And, as we would drive away from the toll booth, I would wonder what the collector saw in the car following us, and the one after that, and after that, and how the activity in the cars changed with morning commute or Friday night commute, and thus my social studies had begun.

Shortly after my short-sighted career aspiration of bridge toll collector, I aspired to things much greater: I decided that I would be the young voice that would end The Cold War. However, my pontificating on why we should all just "get along" got no further than speeches in the bathtub (I still wonder why; they were fantastic speeches). But I digress.

What I mean to say is, that interest in the social interaction (or lack thereof, or the interaction that takes place minus the social part - i.e. - people in who are talking to themselves or some fictional character in a public place) is still very prominent in my life. I am deeply affected by random comments made to me or anyone else by randoms on the streets; most often in a negative way, and equally intrigued by neighbors bumping into one another and their dialogues; most often in a smile-to-myself kind of way. But I am ever curious about people whose jobs require being affected by "strangers and regulars." Bartenders. Cashiers at corner markets. Bus drivers.

These people deal with strangers and regulars intermittently throughout their days and careers. Well, I suppose, in a way, we all deal with that, no matter the career. But my senses heighten to their interactions.

This evening, after a long work week, I strolled to the corner market (which is 6 blocks away, luckily my new neighborhood doesn't have hills - but still the journey to and fro takes a solid 20 minutes - which is truly too much time to take to go to the "corner" market) to get wine for a pleasant evening of unwinding. As I got closer to the store, I worried more and more that I would see the same cashier as the last few times. And of course, I did. And when I went up to the counter, he just gave me a look. A look I didn't like.

Why? Because of social pattern. There are only 3 places to buy alcohol near my apartment. Inevitably, after a while people remember you. I am sure that I discovered via pattern that there are only 3 night shift guys at one market before any of them discovered that I come in all the friggin time. After 5 months, they are beginning to recognize me as a neighborhood regular. And my purchase pattern does not waver. Wine. Wine. Wine. Wine.

I like to notice other people's social patterns, but I don't ever want mine figured out. By becoming a regular anywhere, people can assume too much about my life based on a singular activity. I know I shouldn't care, but I do. I guess that, because I try to figure others out so much (albeit probably more dynamically that most), I think they are trying figuring me out, too. I'll never really know if I am giving too much credit or not enough. Regardless, I hope those 3 guys don't think I am a 30-something solo home drinker, because that is rarely (well, okay, bi-monthly perhaps) the case.

Tags:

• life
• perspective
• people