I'm not a hugger by nature. Some people are, some aren't. Intense, intimate contact with people whose name I'm not sure of is uncomfortable. I'm not a germophobe. I am on good terms with my germs and I assume your germs are no worse.
The other night I was at an outdoor concert in Jersey City. I know people in JC and they are all serial huggers. You see these same folks everywhere, smiling, hugging, engaging in intense conversation about very important things. Sometimes they pat each other on the butt. I am okay with most of this, but I wonder how close is this friendship? It sure looks like they are hugging for the benefit of others. See how loved I am. See how popular. If something bad happened to me, look at all those who would jump to my assistance.
After about an hour watching this, I closed the book I was reading and looked around for someone to hug. Yes, I was feeling a bit lost and abandoned. I couldn't hug the musicians or vendors, none of whom I knew. A woman next to me asked the time. I suppose I could have used that as an excuse to toss a light hug her way. She seemed happy and happy people are more likely to hug strangers.
There is far too much hugging at the Olympics, but that is another level of contact altogether.
I left the concert having hugged no one. I have now gone 161 days without hugging anyone and I tell you it's not as bad as it sounds. My super is cutting the grass. He is a stocky Latino and we get along fine. I believe I should go out and give him a hug. First I'll gargle, floss, spray deodorant and slap on moisturizer. I want my infrequent hugs to be memorable.
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