To Be Happier, Talk to A Stranger… Just Not Me

There have been other reports like this in the past, and they all sort of lead to the same conclusion: tiny, trivial interactions with strangers—cashiers at the grocery store, people in elevators, fellow pedestrians on the sidewalk, other places humans might be that I only go because I must—increase feelings of happiness. People apparently love brief acknowledgement, according to Purdue University psychologist Kipling Williams, which in turn makes them feel “more socially connected.” He says “It takes very little to acknowledge somebody’s existence.”

Sounds great. Make eye contact, smile at nerds, whatever. Just not me.

I recently made the mistake of communing with a few strangers on my commute, speaking to people on the subway platform, in the lobby of Jezebel’s office building, and even in the elevator (I was born in Texas and this is my burden.) What is not my burden, however, is the fallout. Now whenever I see these select individuals, they expect followup conversation, and god forbid, a smile?! It’s the morning, dude-whose-name-I’ve-never-known-because-you’re-a-literal-stranger, and I’m trying to sulk. I’ll give you a “Hey, how’s it goin’?” but that’s it, pal.

Perhaps the secret to eternal bliss isn’t talking to strangers, but talking to strangers with whom there is no possibility of ever seeing again and where the conversation doesn’t move past, “Good morning,” “Nice shoes,” or “Bad weather.” There it is. I’ve found happiness.