For the last several years, I have been trying to keep my loner tendencies in check, and so far I have been successful at it. I use to use my shyness as an excuse not to engage inter-personally with the populace, but in all honesty though, I was kinda rude. The transition from being a hermit to being a pleasant being was less painful than I had initially thought and I have enjoyed the countless conversations I had with people that I would normally not chat with, but something in me happened this year. Something that cause me to revert to my anti-social habits.
I’m a commuter, commuting is one of the best things to experience as a human being. Besides giving you, an extra hour or two to read, think, whatever, it also gives you an opportunity to have meaningless conversations with people you might not meet ever again in your life, and even if the stars were aligned right and you happened to meet them again, you would probably not remember them. I don’t know what it is about me, but people tend to want to start a conversation with me and me being me, I usually oblige. Most of the time, the conversation is lighthearted,it’s usually about soccer, women, the weekend papers etc. but once in a while, serious topics are discussed, I will never forget the conversation I had about the recent animosity black people have towards Ethiopians and Middle East Asians moving into black neighbourhoods to take over informal businesses there, his father was a shop owner and he was genuinely mad that “these” people are coming here and taking over previously owned black shops. I pointed it out that scapegoating non-South Africans is ill-advised since black businesses died the day when big Supermarket chains moved into townships and killed off all the mom and pops stores because they could no longer compete with their purchasing power, he didn’t buy my argument but the conversation was enriching enough for me that I wasn’t saddened by his bigotry. Lately though, I have been actively avoiding commuter discussions. I carry my MP3 player wherever I go, and blast old school De la Soul records.
Another nifty anti-social habit I acquired during the infamous events of the previous year, is owning four different numbers and using whichever one I find suitable depending on my mo od. It happened by accident really, two people gave me their work sim cards as gifts, I got bamboozled by clever marketing to try an 8.ta sim (which was a bad idea) and just like that, I had four different numbers. Initially, I was having trouble managing all my numbers but a bad episode featuring disgruntled ex and ouToilet made me realize that I could use this to my advantage. Way too many people knew my first number, I wanted to cut off the bad elements so I began to my first number less and only the people I fuxed with knew my other two numbers. The other one, only I knew about it, it came in handy when people where avoiding my call. #stalkertendencies. Nowadays though, I find myself using my anonymous phone number more and more, only my boss, colleague and a few friend know it. I’m loving it, not having my phone ringing countless time a day is awesome. But this is just a phase though, I’m sure when Winter ends and my serotonin level increases, I’ll be my “normal” self again.