Recently I have noticed that my co-worker Barbara seems to know an awful lot of people. I suppose this is what happens when you live in the same town and work in the same store for over twenty years, which is probably at least part of the reason why I can't seem to manage either of those things. I also noticed that she spends a lot of time talking to these people. Time when, for example, she should probably be doing her job, and would probably rather be doing her job, but there is no way around it, and these people seem to have no sense of awareness or propriety. I have boiled all of these thoughts down into a nugget of wisdom, a mantra, if you will, that I now repeat to myself on a regular basis:

"How are you?" is a trap.

It sounds like an innocent question, and most people have the good sense to say "Okay," or "fine," or "tired", or blurt out the one-or-two-word answer that every peripheral person in your life expects when they are asking. It isn't even a question anymore, really. It's half of a greeting. The problem is that there are a lot of people in the world, many of whom are common to a natural foods type, touchy-feely environment like the Local Grocery, who are just dying to tell you how terrible their lives are. Barbara had one of these the other day, and I was unfortunate enough to be caught in the middle, since the conversation was being had in the same five foot space that I require the use of in order to do my job.

"Hi, Barbara."

"Hi, Woman (Whose name I have forgotten ). How are you?"

"Well, (long pause), I'm okay."

"That's good."

Barbara was already in the middle of asking me a question, and we were about to go about our business, when the woman, sensing the door of opportunity slamming shut, interjected
"We just got back."

"Oh, that's right. How was it?"

"It was good-"

"Great," said Barbara, again turning to me to discuss the task at hand.

"Yeah, my dad has never even been in a nursing home before, so we weren't sure how he was going to react. All those people screaming in pain, all the sickness and suffering-"

At this point I will freely admit that I completely shut off. I'm pretty sure I was singing "Highway to Hell" quietly to myself and trying to decide what kind of beer I was going to buy after my shift ended. Am I callous? Perhaps. But I really don't know this woman- I had never seen her before - and frankly I have enough to be depressed about without getting caught up in the troubles of people I don't know at all and have no intention of knowing. What I can tell you is that the conversation went on for a long time, it was uncomfortably depressing, and it should have been had over lunch or a drink rather than the damned cheese counter in front of a bunch of unwitting strangers. I was impressed with Barbara's ability to deal with it all, frankly, but I also vowed never to be in Barbara's shoes.
The conversation ended with the woman smiling brightly and saying "But yeah- it was really, really good" and then parting, leaving Barbara exhausted and obviously a little sad.
The next person who walked up to the counter was somebody I recognized. I said hello, and they responded with the usual "Hello, how are you?"

"I'm great," I lied. "Thanks for asking. What can I help you find?"