tonight when i got home, my next door neighbors were sitting on the deck drinking beer. as i walked by them and their stellas, i said, "i'm tempted to steal one of those," and we exchanged some awkward laughter. i had never said more than "hi" to them, a boyfriend-girlfriend duo who, from their kitchen, i have heard speak a different language. i didn't even know their names.
i went inside, dropped my backpack, and went to get dressed to go on a run. i could hear them through the creak in the back door, so instead of walking by them again, i decided to leave from the front door, as to avoid another run-in with them. as i rounded kenilworth ave. toward home, i could see they were still sitting on the deck. having only my back door key with me, i had no choice but to walk by them. again.
i lingered in the parking lot, stretching, hoping they would go inside. for as social as i can be, i also have some social phobia issues. realizing that they were not going to go inside, i doubled up the stairs and turned the corner towards where they were sitting.
"do you still want to steal one?" the blond woman asked.
"i do, but i had better not," i said, smiling as i passed.
then i turned around.
"i'm sorry, but what is your name?" i asked, extending my hand to introduce myself.
i ended up talking to them, learning their names (maggie and davy), and finding out a little about their lives. they could not have been nicer, and all i could think about after i left was how guilty i felt for skating around them. maggie said that they had lived here for 10 months. 10 MONTHS! i am truly embarrassed that it has taken us 10 months to even introduce ourselves.
why are we so afraid to get to know about the lives of those who live in close proximity to us? how can we share a common space with people and not even know their names? it's a perplexing aspect of big city culture that i'm not sure i'll ever understand.
