This afternoon I'm at the beach, and I figure this is a good place to make some eye contact.
As I am walking along the water I notice a fellow sitting on the ground, his back against a log, facing the ocean.
I walk back towards him, step up on a log, and make a small jump down.
What follows is the most succinct non-rejection so far:
Me: Hi.
Pause. He looks up from his writing.
Me: I'm doing an experiment. Every day I ask a stranger to make eye contact with me for 60 seconds. Is this something you'd be willing to do with me?
Mark: OK.
Me: Here's how it works. I have this timer set for 60 seconds. When I start it, we'll make eye contact, not look away, and not talk. Still willing to do it?
Mark: Sure.
Me: OK. Let's start.
I sit down and start the timer. We commence eye contact.
I feel relaxed and at ease. He is really focused. He seems relaxed, too, yet... Protective. I am not sure. He's a willing participant for sure, and present, but I don't know what's going on with him. He doesn't seem enthusiastic, yet he consented. I cannot tell what's in his eyes, in his mind, in his heart. Preoccupation? Worry? Sadness? I can't read him.
The timer beeps.
Me: That's it. I'm Josh.
Mark: Mark.
We shake hands.
Me: I'm going to give you a leave-behind. I write about my experiences on this blog.
I hand him a scrap of paper with the URL written on it.
Me: The last thing I ask participants is if I may use their first name and photograph on my blog. Is that OK with you?
Mark: Sure.
Me: Here we go.
I take his picture.
Me: Look OK?
I show it to him.
Mark: Sure.
Me: Cool. Anything else before I disappear?
Mark: No.
He seems amused, but remains serious.
Me: OK. Great day. Be well.
I hop back over the log and walk down the beach.
