Fear of Connection

There was no way I was gunna beat the elderly population to the blood draw. Opens at 7 – line forms at 6:30.. why you ask? Because these ppl get off on annoying the rest of the population 😂. I get there at 8:30 because it’s gotta be less crowded, right?

Open the door and not an empty seat. No, actually, one seat left. 🙄 Whew. And one more, hidden between two larger folks. All is right in the world. I take a seat. One couple is going through some random online survey. Thinking it’s ok to read each choice out loud – seemingly unaware of ALL of us held captive in this tiny room. Here they were, laughing loudly and reading each survey choice out loud 🙄🙄

Now unless you have earbuds or phones, you are going to HAVE TO listen to their non-sense…Tide vs. All, Dawn vs. Ajax…bla bla bla bla bla bla. Captive audience. Pretty sure my ears were bleeding.

So I keep smiling. Trying not to show my disgust for their lack of social awareness, their insatiable need to be noticed and heard, yuk 🙄. My only recourse, I log into WordPress, recording the highlights of this backwoods richness unfolding before me.

Enter elderly gentleman with “sample in hand” – (remember where I am) You know what sample I speak of.

“Holy hell” he announces loudly as he enters and looks around this teeny cell block room. “Wow, this is a small room”. Congrats Captain Obvious! No-one responds or lifts an eyeball…And he’s no quitter ðŸĪŠ again, he offers -“Everyone here for a good reason or a bad reason?” Again, no-one makes eye contact or responds to his inquiries. My fellow cell-mates are looking down, counting floor tiles and suddenly reading posters long forgotten – eyes ANYWHERE – but on this friendly, harmless soul.

One last attempt. “There’s a TV on, but no sound” – this time I chuckle, I can’t help it. This guy is desperate to have someone respond to him. See him. Hear him. Get him. I get this desire to connect. I understand the need. But everyone in this tiny waiting room wants this guy to disappear. The Human Condition.

Wish granted. It was his turn. He rose from his chair and left with the technician. Tragedy averted. For now.

What’s wrong with us? What makes ppl avoid overly friendly folks? Why are we so afraid? Like he’s going to glom onto us and ask us for our pin #. Wtf. Like he might follow us home and try to sleep on the couch if you make eye contact or acknowledge his existence??? What’s the worst that can happen? A friendly conversation for a couple of minutes? Strangers are fascinating – I think. Observing human behavior is fascinating.

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