Could You Chat Up 10 Strangers a Day for a Week?

Sex tapes! Poetry recitals! Alpine tower jumps! Diet switcheroos! Welcome to MORE's fer-crying-out-loud just-do-it already blowout special, in which women just like you hurl themselves out of their comfort zone and into a brave new world where style, substance and unmitigated badassery abound. The rut busting starts here

by Mel Miskimen
two women talking over coffee image

I began this assignment with anxiety and dread. I work at home, tap-tapping away on my keyboard, and most of my daily interpersonal communications aren’t even with actual, you know, persons. They are with my dog or my succulents (and I include my husband in that mix).

I’m not shy or withdrawn; I’m just not good at breaking the ice, chitchatting, making small talk. I worry about how I’ll come off, that I’ll end up offending with an off-the-cuff comment, so I resort to innocuous queries about someone’s kids or their work (all the while thinking about how lame I sound and how I really don’t care about their kids or their work).

However, More asked me to try to make “meaningful” contact. So whether I was engaging a tattoo-parlor owner about his folk-hipster artwork or approaching old ladies at a bus stop about the changes in our neighborhood, I tried to connect in ways that felt genuine. And that means many of my encounters left me feeling like an idiot. But a week after starting this little experiment, as I sit here tap-tapping once more, I find that I can’t go back to the way things were. I no longer have a set quota of people to talk with during the day, and that’s a relief. But now that I’ve pumped
up that conversation muscle, it just refuses to sag again— and for that I am grateful.

A sampling of Mel's stranger encounters:

A Run-In with a Nun
I spot Sister Old School in an office building on my way to a meeting: a young, Asian-looking Audrey Hepburn from that movie The Nun’s Story.

Me: [doing a version of  What Not to Wear’s Clinton Kelly] Sister! Whoa! I’m liking the look! Love the habit!

Sister: [very softly] Yes?

Me: I have to ask, why wear it? I thought the nuns decided it was too restrictive. That it was kind of like wearing a burka. I remember in grade school, the nun had to turn her whole upper body to look left or right. And if she dropped something? Forget it.

Sister: [nothing]

Me: [continuing undeterred] I was talking to some sisters once, and they said that sometimes they do miss the habit, that it was kind of a security blanket, that people treated them with more respect when they wore it and they got free bus rides—

Sister: Um . . . I don’t think that’s why we wear it.

Inhumane Society
I wake up with a bad attitude. I think about going to the zoo but don’t. Instead, I hit the local animal shelter, which is like a zoo but with dogs. I sidle up to two women looking at a bull terrier.

Woman 1: He’s cute! Look at that big head!

Woman 2: Yeah, let’s write him down as a maybe.

Me: You know, dogs with short white hair like that can get sunburned.

Woman 2: Really? Oh. I didn’t know that.

They walk away. And I berate myself for ruining Roscoe’s chances of happiness.

All the World's a Stooge
I’m at Rummage-a-Rama (because where better to talk to 10 strangers than an exhibition hall full of them trying to sell their equally strange wares?)

Me: [to a thirty-something guy who would have been attractive if not for his booth crammed with Three Stooges–themed posters, bobbleheads, board games and other ephemera] One word: Why?

Him: Why not?

Mel Miskimen is the author of Cop's Kid: A Milwaukee Memoir.

Next: Take Your Scariest Leap

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Photo courtesy of racorn/

First Published Fri, 2013-06-14 17:23

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