27 Jun

After recently returning from Papa John’s where I had a lovely chat with Pizza Guy, I came to the realization that I don’t know any of my neighbors. Never talk to them. Never interact. Nothing. May not even recognize them if I saw them out and about. However, I do know Papa John’s pizza guy, practically all the employees at Nacho’s Mexican Restaurant, cute Starbucks guy, Jersey Mike’s deli dude, the hilarious Otter’s chicken guy, several of the Moe’s Mexican Grill peeps, and the cashier lady at the Daily’s gas station where I stop for my breakfast coffee and Krispy Kreme donuts more often than I should.  And they all know me and recognize my face. Some even know my name, and we talk every time I see them (which is a lot, I imagine).  I can’t say that about the people who live withing 20 feet of my front door.  Heck, I don’t even know how many neighbors I actually have.

I’m not exactly sure what this says about me, but I’m pretty positive it says something. I’ll let you know when I figure it out, and of course, I’m always open for suggestions.


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