No need to get the police involved ma'am, it was just a question

There are some stereotypes that exist about the friendliness of people who live in different parts of our country.  East Coast people allegedly would cut you rather than say hello; Midwestern folks are portrayed as friendly and open; Southern hospitality is legendary; and the dudes on the West Coast are rumored to live and let live (so long as you don't live off the West Coast, that is).

I live on the East Coast. 

But I was raised in the Midwest.

I think absolutely nothing of striking up conversations with people I meet in public.  We're all here sharing some planetary space, right?  Don't you want to discuss with me the merits of the book you just selected versus the one I'm holding?   Why wouldn't you want to share with me how well you like the one-pump-sugar-free-caramel in your chai latte versus the plain old latte?  And aren't we all annoyed in line at the post office?  Shouldn't we be bonding, as a species, over these shared experiences?

Maybe not so much on the East Coast.  Recently I was in Michaels craft store.  I was in the yarn aisle.  A woman who looked to be about my age was in the yarn aisle.  We are standing no more than 18 inches apart.  I am breathing her exhaled molecules, for goodness sake.  So when I ask her, quite pleasantly with my slight Midwestern twang that should communicate friendliness and openness, if she knits or crochets, should she abruptly turn and glare at me as if I'd just asked her for a tampon?  No she should not!  And was it necessary for her to hiss "My son has a project!" and then run from the aisle?  Again, no it was not!  I'm not a stalker.  I'm not even (that) weird looking.  (And since we're now discussing my looks I should really mention that new-stylist Lisa outdid herself on my latest cut and it is super cute, not stalker crazy). 

I frequently hear people, well mostly me, complain about how hard it is to meet and make friends as an adult.  No wonder ladies!  If you are guilty of the glare-and-run when a stranger with nice hair asks a simple friendly question then you have no one to blame but yourself if you outlive your spouse and are a lonely old cat lady (no offense to my sister-in-law who now has..5..maybe 7..cats).

As for me, I'll be hanging out in the yarn aisle at Michaels.  Perusing the book selection at BJs.  Sifting through picture frames at Target.  Reading the recipe cards at the end of the meat aisle at Hannafords.  Say hi, I promise not to run.  You can even borrow a tampon.