Part of a weekly look into the adventures of Lisa Chin
Ten minutes ago, I was strolling quickly down the street towards the entrance to the train which was one block away.
I have headsets on, listening to music, when above the cacophony of beats and vocals, I hear the sound of someone’s voice addressing me.
“Hello? Miss?”
I realize through my super fuzzy peripheral vision that this person is indeed trying to talk to me. As a woman, I have to think this out almost mathematically – it’s a good thing that I’m Asian, and that I know about WolframAlpha.com (which you should check out).
Distance to train, one block. I am walking three miles per hour. This man has exactly sixty seconds to chat with me.
If I walk straight as if I have zero clue that anybody is trying to talk to me and successfully convince him that I am not even slightly coherent of my surroundings, then there’s a 90% chance he will give up within the next ten seconds.
The benefit is that I get to leave. The cost is that I never get to see who was paying me this unwelcome flattery. I’m about 98% sure it’s not going to be a good outcome but still, I am 70% curious. If I become more curious, then I can resort to turning my head just enough to get a blurry glimpse of the person using my peripheral view.
I calculate this to be anywhere between 80 and 100 degrees in either direction for no more than .5 seconds. I risk making brief eye contact, but I can still play it off as if I was just randomly turning my head for no reason looking at something else. If I go more than 100 degrees, I will most likely make enough eye contact to give this person acknowledgement of his plea and existence. But, if I rip down my thin veneer of ignorance, my 90% chance of him giving up will fall to 10%.
Still with me? Let’s continue.
So, I happened to be in a very good mood at the time. The area around me was heavily populated, which I consider to be fairly safe. These two factors together make it 50% more likely that I will do the peripheral glance… and so I did, but only for .5 seconds.
You might think, “what could you possibly tell from such a short window of time?” Let me tell you though, I can assert a lot of things just shy of picking him out of a police line-up.
From my peripheral view, I could identify that he was a Hispanic male, wearing a blue janitorial uniform, approximately 5′ 4″, bald, overweight, rings under his eyes, teeth problems, asymmetrical gait, and blackened lips. Basically, he fell in that 98% of the population I wasn’t hoping to see. Initial assessment done, back to the chalk board.
According to my historical folder of Hispanic strangers who have started talking to me at random, I have assessed that there is about a 95% chance he is going to hit on me in the next 30 seconds.
Then he says “miss, you are so beautiful.” Okay, now I’m 100% sure you are hitting on me. He’s also ruining what little curve my Hispanic folder had. He continues to talk while struggling to catch up (due to his previously mentioned gawky gait). I still have my headphones on so I can’t hear what he’s saying, but he won’t stop talking.
Just great! You fell into the 10% persistent category.
Then I’m not sure what happened. I suddenly felt bad. Maybe it was his wayward appearance. Or his awkward stride in which he had trouble keeping up with my spry three miles per hour. Either way, I decided to remove my headphones and let him know with some reluctance, “I hear ya buddy.”
Here is where I do another quick evaluation. Considering I’m talking to him after my glimpse assessment, I feel that there is a 60% chance that I should find a therapist. I said, “Sorry, I couldn’t hear you because I had my headphones on.”
He replied in a very broken accent, “Oh, I just wanted to tell you that you are beautiful. You are so nice. I am walking around, and I do not think I look very good but you said hi.”
Quick evaluation from my previous and numerous experiences with Hispanic men. We have established that you are definitely hitting on me. Let’s break it down further. There is a 70% chance you are just trying to flatter me by being nice and that’s all that will happen. If I play it cool, I can probably let you off easy without any major retribution.
I also made the mental note, judging by the color of your lips and raspy voice, you should really consider that smoking habit of yours. Smoking takes an average of 7 years off of your life. You should probably visit the dentist more often as well.
“Sure, why not,” I replied very casually as I cringed at the thought of increasing my chances of this turning even more awkward, “Oh you shouldn’t be so harsh on yourself. You’re a handsome guy.”
At this point I was calculating how many more steps it would take to get to the entrance of the train, and my quick response alternate plans should he also start to descend the steps. Clearly, I wasn’t going to make this a longer walk than need be. He said, “Oh I do not think I look good. I have low self esteem. I not good looking. The women never want to talk to me. I say hi and they don’t talk to me.”
Oh great, your self defeatist attitude is harping on my pity strings.
If I sound more agreeable, I am increasing my chances that you will take your game to the next level. Still, I replied to him, “Hey, but it’s New York. Nobody wants to ever talk to anybody else, am I right?”
You should have seen the look on this man’s face. Pure elation! It was like I told him he won the lottery. He starts to tell me how nice I am and how I truly truly made his day. He just looked so relieved that somebody said something nice to him.
I started to walk down the staircase and he kept going straight, proclaiming how great his day was going to be. My perceived threat ratio dropped to zero in an instant, and I was 100% filled with a great feeling that I made a stranger have a better end to his day.
Sometimes the equations work out to your benefit. (Just sometimes).
[Feature Photo via.]—
Lisa Chin is a Senior Interactive Director at SNAP Interactive and the newest columnist for Wika Magazine. You can check out Lisa’s online portfolio here.
