When I was a child, I was repeatedly told not to speak to strangers, yet every proper adult I know speaks to randoms all the time. Is this the grownup secret they don’t want to let us in on? Has this been the key to adulthood all along?
Exhibit A: my boyfriend’s mother, Brenda. She is the worst person to run errands with in a hurry because she insists on idle chat with anyone who will listen. Fellow person at the bus stop: “Aren’t you glad it’s not raining?” Server at the butcher’s: “Has it been busy recently?” Woman she’s never met before but who happens to be taking the bins out as she passes: “Popped a little cat in there, have you? Haha, only joking, I love cats!”
She tells me she’s just “being a good neighbour” in a tone I read to mean she thinks I am not. What an insult! I am a great neighbour, for your information, Brenda – I keep the garden tidy, have perfect timing with the refuse collection and I never, ever speak to anyone. Or give people reason to speak to me. I’m a ghost, silent, barely there. What more does anyone want from a neighbour than someone who totally ignores them?
Anonymity is the best thing about city living. As someone who grew up under the tyrannical eyes of the Asian Aunties patrolling the neighbourhood, I know the hell of everyone knowing your business, even if the blow is softened by samosas (delicious samosas of judgment). But no amount of pastry is worth one’s peace, and after a day of being surrounded by people on the train or at work, isn’t it nice to come home and be unpestered, unbothered, unjudged, and left to relax?
Perhaps now I’m too old for raucous parties and friends spewing in next door’s flowerbed, I have no reason to fear my neighbours. Who knows, maybe if I can convince them I’m a proper adult, I can convince myself. I’ll try to act natural when I invite them to a barbecue – “Hello, fellow street dwellers!” – and charm them with my inability to chit-chat, and ability to burn everything.
I do want to be a good neighbour. I care about where I live and the people who make it great. I want to respect their peace while making sure they don’t feel lonely. I’m just not sure I have the small-talk skills to do it. Will a charred hot dog do?
