familiarity breeds comfort

i know people say that familiarity breeds contempt, but really, it's a different c-word, it's comfort.

so, some quick background. when i lived in guelph, a city of 110,000 that felt at most times like a town (because i tended to hang out downtown, being and artsy and all, it was required), it would not be uncommon for me to strike up a conversation with a stranger. both waiting in line at the supermarket, let's chat. both waiting for the bus, let's chat. both in the waiting room at the chiropractor, let's chat.

now i live in toronto. in toronto every has achieved the practiced art of not seeing. no one looks at each other. no one nods hello on the street. no one talks to each other while in line. everyone lives in their little bubble where no strangeness shall enter.

background finished, on to the story...

yesterday i was waiting for the bus when a woman, who i see there probably twice a week or so (i am very unreliable on my timing), turned to me and said "i haven't seen you in quite a while, have you been away?"

what i noticed is that suddenly, because she was used to seeing me, she was okay with talking to me, even though, techincally, i'm still a stranger.

i've had this type of thing happen before, but never taken note of it in the same way.

it facinates me the safety people in the familiar.