I've noticed that I spend quite a lot of my time saying 'Hello' to people who I don't even know.
As I walk down the street, I say 'hello' to at least 67% of the good folk who pass me.
This habit - as with most things in my life - is born out of fear. Fear that I will pass someone who I know and will fail to say 'hello' to them.
After fourteen years of living in London, I kinda got in the habit of not expecting to see people I know.
So, for a long while there, I was breezing through the streets of my little town not really acknowledging anyone at all.
Now it's the other extreme - look at me sideways and you're sure to get a great big 'Hello!"
I also tend to wave a lot at passing cars.
I know, I know but it's all that tinted glass, I can't tell who's inside the damn things. I think I recognise the make and colour of the car so I reckon, I'd better wave just to be on the safe side.
The latest manifestation of this manic acknowledgment of complete strangers relates to my treasured ipod (steal it and I will steal your life).
Whenever I see people walking towards me, I tend to pull out my little-ear-bud-things. Just in case they might want to speak to me and I might miss their nugget of information (maybe not an entire nugget, maybe just a dipper or even a goujon).
Usually they don't (want to talk to me) so I slip my buds back in.
If the overall effect of this musing is to cause you to think, "what a sad bastard," then you are probably on the right course to finally understanding this blogger.