I go places with Curtis (he’s very wonderful) just so we can have the car ride together—then, when we arrive and he has responsibilities or chores, I sit in the car and read or write.
Last night, I sat in our Jeep and wrote, talked on the phone, and watched the sun set. When people see you sitting in the car with the windows open in a nearly empty parking lot, they all have the same response: they stare. Something about being in the car makes people assume maybe you can’t see them watching you.
Sometimes, I stared back. Sometimes, I pretended not to look.
Social interaction code is interesting. You can look at people, but only if they don’t realize it. If they do realize it, you have to look away quickly or pretend to be looking at something else. Somewhere along the way it became rude to look at people, even though at their core, all people really want is to be seen.