»In which we work on our manners

After visiting the same café more or less every morning for the past nine years (wow! that is how long I have been in San Francisco -- !), I expect that the person behind the counter knows, if not my name, what I drink. So far so good: I walk in, and the nice Italian woman, the always-sleepy-but-very-cheerful German woman, the pleasantly-tweaked tattoed man, and the indie-rock chick all know that I put back a double espresso with hot water, and the mug I prefer to drink from. And they always say "Good morning" and "How are you" or even, simply, "Hello". But this morning I say "Thank you" to the woman with the weird mouth, and she says, briefly, "Yeah." A response that is unexpected and jarring, if not rude. Compounded with her blank stare when I said "Good morning", I felt more intensely disrespected than when I hear "No problem" in response to a polite, straightforward "Thank you". After I greeted her I paused, so that she could say something in return -- she had been bantering with the previous customer -- but she simply stood and stared expectantly. Perhaps I smelled bad? But no: a moment later the man who had been sleeping in the doorway across the street walked in, after emptying out his piss-bottle onto the kerb, and she handed him a cup of coffee. I must smell bad and have another offensive trait. From now on when I see this woman, I will experiment: no cursory dollar bill stuffed into the solicitous cup on the counter, no expectation that she knows my drink, no idle chit-chat. Or I might turn around and walk to the shop down the street. Or I might learn to make coffee for myself at home.

The calculus of manners often breaks down in this spectacularly complex and rushed world. I sat down at the airport lounge, and the man next to me leaned over and said, "Hey, are you a football fan?", to which I answered, "No" and wondered "Is it football season?" because all I have on my mind right now is the end of Wimbledon and the beginning of the Tour de France. The man continued: "Well, one of the greatest players in the NFL is over there right now. Curtis Martin."
And I started: I attended high school with Curt, and we sat through electonics shop (three periods! every day!) together, often watching his tapes from the previou day's game in the A/V lab (Yes, I was an A/V geek. Big surprise.) He set rushing records throughout high school, then at University, and has become an icon in American football: an elegant, talented football player. I went up to him, nervous for interrupting his privacy but very excited, because -- well, because he is a great guy. And he is: when I said my name, his face lit up and he said, "Yes, from Mr Karsin's class!".