Americans. They’ll tell ya.

Many mornings as I walk to the bus stop in Edmonton, I pass an older lady walking her dog. Despite the fact that we’ve passed each other many times, her dimeanor suggests a firm belief that I will mug her. She averts her eyes and does not reply when I say good morning. I can understand that I might appear imposing to an older lady. I am tall, dressed in a mugger-black coat and sport the doughy features of someone who lacks some portion of recommended moral fiber. But now that I’ve passed her 40 or 50 times, I’m beginning to wonder what kind of long game she thinks I’m playing.

Compare the older lady in Edmonton to the older lady walking her dog in Washington. When I passed her on Friday she smiled and said “Hope you get home okay.” She was referring to an impending storm that was supposed to hit Washington at some point that morning. This friendly wish from a stranger surprised me and all I could manage was a quick “Me too” in response.

As I board the bus in Edmonton, I’m often faced with a crowd of people huddled together in the front aisle because someone texting has blocked the way to the back of the bus. Edmontonians address this situation by staring longingly over the shoulder of the clot/texter hoping that they will look up, notice the error of their ways and move on back or quietly encouraging the bus driver to scream “MOVE TO THE BACK!” Height is a snorkel in a crowd so I’m rarely bothered by tight quarters on a bus, but I wonder why short people put up with the situation. Especially those pressed into the armpit of the person ahead of them.

The bus in Washington was getting full the other day and I watched as a young woman came up the stairs, took one look at the situation and screamed “MOVE TO THE BACK!” She might have been on board all of two seconds. She was the second person to below at her fellow passengers since I boarded. The first had been a young man in a business suit. The driver hadn’t uttered a word, yet the resulting bus ride was as orderly and comfortable as one could expect during the rush hour.

Because this is a blog, I will now draw broad conclusions from a narrow set of anecdotes. It seems like Americans aren’t nearly as afraid of each other as they should be. If the statistics are to be believed, many of them own firearms and engage in violent crime and yet, the old women greet potential muggers with good wishes and young women feel comfortable shrieking directions at a bus full of people.

It seems to me that this willingness to engage verbally removes all sorts of emotional friction in everyday life. As I sit 4000 kilometers from the old lady in Edmonton, I’m pained by her apparent belief that I mean her harm. I have no doubt, that the Washington dog walker thinks nothing of me. Short people in Edmonton are constantly filled with simmering rage as they are jockeyed into the midst of a crowd due to an oblivious texter. The solution, a quick “Move TO THE BACK” would lead to physical and emotional catharsis, and I would recommend any short person in Edmonton follow the example of their Washington counterparts.

As for me, the next time I see the Edmonton dog walker, I’m going to look her in the eye, smile broadly and say, “I hope you get home okay.” That should put her mind at ease.