Hover-Handing Life

Over a month since my last post? For shame, me.

Lately, many of my posts have been starting out with similar sentiments. This is at least true to form, though none of you would know it. Most of my diaries and journals over the years betray similar habits.

I wrote drafts of other posts. There was a sequel to Telephonic Jungle of Doom. And I mean, quite literally, a sequel – it picked up directly after Jungle of Doom ends, and continued onwards in another crazy adventure. And by crazy adventure, I mean that it was me sitting at a desk, repeatedly picking up my handset and dialing phone numbers. It was a whole other cabinet, dedicated to a different project, with at least 50 new vendors to call – actually less than a quarter of the first project in size, but after the nightmare of the first adventure, I was none too keen to get into it again. This time it was Virginia – different, but absolutely the same. Actually, people were much nicer and I had significantly less trouble. I guess people in LA really are assholes. Though, if I never noticed until now, that probably means I’m one of them. Oh, also, since sequels always come back with more amazing toys and gadgets, this time when I made my calls, I had a headset.

I also started to write about what I called “Salah” or my unknown waiter guy – the fleeting friendship formed in the midst of a great adventure. And let me tell you, had I posted that bit, it would have been HI-larious. Truly a good time. In short, I corresponded with a photographer (extremely) briefly and at the conclusion of our transactions, I felt, for lack of less sentimental word, a connection. We had chatted about her work a very small amount, and I felt the obligation to sincerely wish her luck. Something similar happened at ComicCon. We were leaving a panel and caught an Eleventh Doctor running by and forced him to take a picture with us. We had decided at that point that we had not taken enough pictures with cosplayers, and were determined to get a decent collection. Since he was the Doctor, I offered up the fez I was wearing – it was only right. He seemed flabbergasted I would do such a thing, I mean truly honored by such an offering.

Normally when you take pictures, it’s that awkward “you-are-a-stranger-and-so-I-must-not-actually-touch-you” pose, the more serious condition of which is called hover-hand. But this kid was so ecstatic about the fez that he slung an arm around my shoulder and leveled his sonic at the camera ready for the best picture ever. I don’t really know why, but it was an awesome, if fleeting, experience.

I don’t understand it really. There’s nothing particularly outstanding about either of these interactions, and it’s safe to say that I’ll never interact with either of these people ever again, nor do I have any great desire to. But I guess the fact that even for such a brief time, I felt like I actually connected with a real person – it’s not such a common experience anymore. Even at my job, with people that I spend eight hours a day, five days a week with, there’s so little interaction. The number of people we cross in the street, interact with in shops and restaurants. All the people I talked to on the phone for weeks, and so few of them seemed to be more than a voice on the other end of the line. It’s more than a little dissatisfying.

Advertisements
Leave a comment

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: