Excuse me… “Do you chafe?”

EXCUSE ME!  DO YOU CHAFE?

Imagine for a moment that you are sitting in a college campus commons, surrounded by trees and walkways, with multiple park benches strewn about. There are just a few people here and there, going about their day.  You are sitting in the middle of a particular bench (that seats about four people), minding your own business.  You glance up to assess your surroundings, and you take in a breath of springtime air, a hint of the nearby Douglas Fir behind you, and an alternating whiff of freshly laid dog poop emanating from nearby.   You think of moving to another bench, but you ignore the awful smell and focus on the delightful one.  You stay put. 

You are dressed in light blue jeans, an equally light colored short sleeve casual T- shirt, and you are sporting a Green Bay Packers ball cap adorned with sparse splatters of white paint and dirty grease stains around the brim.  You adjust your cap and look out across the sidewalk.  A small yapping dog saunters by and stops to give you a slight sneer. He scoots on. 

You catch a glance of a stranger walking ever so slowly toward you.  Your head is bent slightly downwards to avoid full eye contact, but you are still focused on his presence. You make another quick upward glance at the person, and your mind quickly fills in some missing details. 

He is about five-foot-something, thin and lithe.  He is dressed in dark clothing, with no hints of bright color anywhere.  His face is youthful, free of any discernable signs of teenage facial afflictions. In his right hand he carries a spiral college notebook, but you can’t make out the writing on the cover.  In his left hand he’s holding what looks like a miniature pocket recorder, the kind the press use for interviews.  You pretend not to notice as he comes closer, inching your head down, scanning the ground beneath your feet.

At that moment, the stranger makes a daring move, sitting down on the very same bench, with barely two inches of space between you both.  You immediately become startled, adjusting your body to allow more distance between you and him, but your move doesn’t create much more space.  The stranger sits upright; you slouch. Nothing is said.  You think to yourself, why is he sitting so close to me?  This bench has plenty of space on both sides of me, yet he chooses to sit right here, extremely close, and it’s making me uncomfortable.  Should I say something?  Should I get up and move to another bench?  Should I pretend that it’s no big deal and mind my own business?”

After a little while, you glance up and take another look at the guy, very quickly and with no hostility.  You notice that he took out a small notepad and started jotting down something.  You get more curious and take a longer look. You’re still a bit nervous, but now your curiosity is replacing the fear. 

Still, nothing is said.  It is like you are frozen in time, waiting for the inevitable answers to come. You check your watch. The minute hand is still moving very slowly, and there is no predicting when those responses will come…if ever.   You hate feeling this way!

He continues to make notes.  You force your eyes to veer over to him, while keeping your head down and trying to remain unsuspicious.

You make a bold move and raise your head, once again readjusting your ball cap.  You glance over to him and make eye contact.  With the ice finally broken, he opens his mouth.

“Excuse me?” he asks.  “Do you chafe?” 

Your initial unspoken response to this is … I have to get the “F” outta here!  But then you decide to see where this is going, and within a few seconds, you reply with … “WHAT???“

Without so much as a deep breath taken, he responds once again, asking…  “Do you chafe?”

Okay, you think to yourself, I’m probably not the brightest bulb in the box, but I do know what the word chafe means. But for the life of me, I can’t understand why someone would come up to a perfect stranger and ask such a stupid question. 

You play along and respond with what you believe to be the greatest comeback of all time for the stupidest question of all time: “I guess I chafe, just as most humans would, given the perfect circumstances for such an event of uneasy soreness to occur, if those conditions were to be justified.” 

“Well said!” the stranger exclaims.  “You just passed the first hurdle in my social experiment today.”

You just sit there, more curious now than ever, and let him continue speaking: “I am a student here at this college and I am enrolled in an Honors Ethics course.  Our professor gave us an unusual assignment and you, my friend, are my first victim… and might I just add, that you passed with flying colors.  Okay, let me rephrase that… maybe not a victim, but rather a participant in a controlled experiment.” 

By now your inquisitiveness is even more heightened and you let the student continue: “My professor told us to create a situation where we go out around the campus and find someone just sitting on a bench alone.  Then, nonchalantly sit as close to that person as you can and watch their reaction. Dr. Buchanan also said to wear dark clothing to appear nonthreatening, and to try to be nonconfrontational, as that may spark violence.  She recommended being nonaggressive, and even try to be nonverbal, play out the situation, and see what happens.”

“Interesting,” you reply, “please tell me more!”

“Well, I tried this a few times before you, and the first person immediately got up and walked away.  The second person got hostile and told me to get the hell off his bench.  And that led me to you.  So, tell me… what was your initial reaction?”

You put out your right hand and introduce yourself. “Hi, my name is David.”

He answers back, “Hey, my name is Jarrod.” 

You describe your initial thoughts: “Well, my first reaction was to get up and walk away, because I thought you were just a complete ass.  You had all this bench space to sit on, but you chose to get in my face.   But then, my curiosity got the better of me and I decided to see where this invasion of my space was going.” 

“You gotta admit,” you continue, “your question about chafing got me thinking that you were some kind of weird-O.  I was torn between booking right then and there, or seeing what would happen.”

“I’m just glad you didn’t haul off and clock me one,” he replies.

“Yeah, you can thank the Lord that I’m not a violent kind of guy,” you remark.  

You and Jarrod exchange a few more pleasantries, and after about ten minutes, you get up leave.  You never get to the actual answer about the chafing, and for all intents and purposes, it doesn’t really matter.   

I received an A+ for my social experiment presentation.

Humans instinctively avoid getting close to one another in public.  Our personal space is sacred and for the most part, we tend to defend ourselves for it.  It is very rare for us as strangers to engage in trite pleasantries unless we find a common bond within seconds of meeting someone.

There are some, though very few, who are open, and just extroverted enough to “break the ice” with just about anyone, anywhere. Maybe we should all try a little harder to initiate the ice breaking.  It would certainly make the world a friendlier place, less hostile, and more forgiving.  So, go out in public and the very first chance you get, get close up and personal with that stranger and say…  Excuse me?  Do you chafe?  See what happens.

Thanks for reading my blog.  If you haven’t already, I would appreciate you subscribing… it’s simple and doesn’t cost anything.  You will be rewarded by getting an email whenever a new entry is posted, and a chance to comment on my musings.  I love getting comments too.