For years I’ve been saying that people in Cali are some of the friendliest people I have ever met. And for years I’ve been being told, that there’s no way that’s true. But, I’ve been here not even forty-eight hours, and I’ve exchanged smiles, hellos, and “excuse me” with more strangers than I do in a week of being at home.
So what gives Cali? Why are you all so damn friendly here?
Is it because you get more than your average amount of Vitamin D, which everybody knows is the happy vitamin?
For years I’ve been trying to figure out what makes you West Coast peeps so warm, and welcoming? Hmmm. Hmmm. Hmmm.
Yesterday during our marathon shop at Target, it was super busy, crammed full of back to school shopping families. Mikaela and I, had two carts, but no list. We had made the decision to walk every aisle, and grab the things she would need to stock a home. Needless to say, with zero knowledge of exactly what is was we needed, until we saw it, there was a lot of zombie like shopping. Now, I don’t know if you’ve ever been so tired, distracted, or unprepared that you have been in a store in a zombie shopping state, but usually it’s met with some casual running into people. Mikaela and I had a few very close encounters, almost hitting carts with people, stopping in the middle of the aisle staring blankly at the shelves, taking up most of the aisle. Distracted shopping syndrome at its finest.
You want to know what happened during these super close, almost driving into strangers with our shopping carts?
SMILES. Smiles happened. And “excuse me” happened. Banter happened.
We were polite one, to the other. There was no “fuck you” or smashing me with a bottle, like the Stranger with the Silver Mercedes S550. Nobody was harmed in the near, multiple shopping cart accidents at Target yesterday. Nobody yelled “I’d like to purchase a silicon vegetable strainer, but this bitch is standing in front of them.” This happened to me the day before at LAX, by a man, who is must be noted, was a tourist, called me a bitch because I was taking my luggage off the carousel before him.
Holy shit. How dare I! How dare I be standing at the carousel before he even got there, lifting my disturbingly heavy, moving my daughter back to university, suitcases all by myself as they come onto the carousel, before him?
Wow. Two weeks, two total dicks.
It feels like chivalry is dead.
Not in Cali though, men still hold doors open, men let you cash out at the market ahead of them, men offer to have you pick up your dry cleaning ahead of them, if you happen to walk into the store at the same time.
So if you’ve been a California hater, or think it’s filled with celebrities, and fakes I challenge you to take a trip out this way and see for yourselves…