Which relationship has taught you the most about yourself?

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There’s a cannabis store that I frequent near my work.

Legal marijuana, which is a whole other story I could write about, and probably someday will.

The sheer fact that I can walk my happy ass into a public store, perfectly legal, perfectly safe, and buy marijuana with strange names still blows my mind.

It’s so ordinary it’s become part of the background scenery where I live because there’s a dispensary on every corner.

Human behavior dictates that we are creatures of habit. You find a grocery store you like and find a dozen reasons you hate going to the others. You have your favorite nail salon, hair stylist, dry cleaner, and so on.

I have my favorite weed store.

I like the deals they have. I like their rewards system.

I particularly like this one girl who works there.

Every time I stop in, I hope she’s working.

She’s just a cheery person. We always chit-chat for a minute. She’s given me the sweetest compliments on my outfits/makeup, whatever. I know her face. I’d recognize her if she knocked on my front door, but honestly, I don’t even know her name.

In maybe two minutes of repeated conversation, we’ve become familiar.

I don’t know what music she likes, or if she has kids, or where she goes when she clocks out for the day.

Maybe she’s hiding a broken heart behind her cheerful smiles. I simply don’t know.

I walked in today, on a regular Thursday. She was there.

I casually mentioned the construction work being done right outside the building and how it must be a nightmare. We both agreed it was desperately needed, though.

She told me that a woman recently fell to the ground after tripping on one of the holes in the parking lot. She said no one helped her. Not one person stopped to help her up or even check if she was alright.

We both said how awful that was, and the conversation drifted to “what has our society become?”

I told her I feel that the measure of a strong and civilized society is how we treat our weakest and most vulnerable.

Our children, our elderly, our disabled, our animals.

She nodded in agreement.

We asked what we can do to make the world better. Be the change we want to see?

I said, “Absolutely, and don’t stop talking about it.”

Silence is the abuser’s best friend.

She said, “It’s always so good to see you! I love when you come in!”

I told her it was great to see her, too.

I left with chills and a smile.

How many people do we encounter this way?

The barista at the coffee shop who knows your order.

The cashier who recognizes you and asks about your kids.

The person who says “Good morning” and holds the door open.

Maybe it’s the neighbor you recognize, but you only remember their dog’s name.

Those tiny spaces that a stranger’s face fills.

Does connection require intimacy?

Because sometimes connection exists in the small spaces.

Sometimes it’s two minutes.

Sometimes it’s a compliment.

Sometimes it’s commiserating about a fucking parking lot.

Sometimes it’s two strangers standing behind a cannabis counter talking about how nobody stopped to help a woman who fell.

And sometimes, for two minutes, you find yourself looking at another human being and realizing:

Oh. You see it too.