I’ve never been good at talking to strangers. As kids, our mom always trained us to stay away from strangers; my grandparents had the same mentality, more or less. These days, I feel there’s a certain deficit.

On one end of the spectrum, there’s always been the issue of striking up a conversation with a girl I liked. That’s a whole topic in itself, one I’m still dealing with today, but the issue arises also in more subtle situations.

As I made my coffee this morning, I thought about the person who carefully packed the beans into the paper bag and wrote “Italian Espresso” in a quick yet precise cursive. They were skinny, probably in their 20s, covered in individual small black-inked tattoos of various animals and flowers. Sometimes, my bag gets readied by a man in his 60s who stands out among the otherwise young folk in the store. He sometimes asks me to repeat my order, and I find that it’s usually the same coffee names I need to repeat. I think it’s my slight accent that confuses him.

I find both individuals and the other folks in that store interesting. They always work there, and I come there often enough to know their work style. I’d like to know their names, maybe how long they’ve been working there, how they like their coffee in the morning (if they drink it then or at all), and in general, what other roles they play in their lives besides being coffee experts. How to do that, though, I have no idea.

As a man about twice the age of most of them, I understand that striking up a conversation might be interpreted as inappropriate interest. I don’t blame them for that, unfortunately. At the same time, however, I’m not sure how to get past that. I wish I could say something like “I come in peace” and let them know at the same time that if anything I ask or say makes them uncomfortable, I’d understand and back off - but it’s not something you can bring up without sounding weird in a bad way, or even creepy. So, for the most part, I smile slightly in gratitude and get out of the store. But I can’t help feeling that at least to an extent it’s a missed opportunity.