Day 12: Victoria

I didn't make eye contact during the day, and now it's dark outside, a little after 8 PM.

I consider not doing the experiment today.

Then I think, "there's no way I'm going to let it go down in the record that I came up with an excuse to not do this two days out of the 30. Go do it."

Tonight I decide to up the ante: I am going to approach someone who I believe is going to reject me, and try to not get rejected.

(I have a number of sub-challenges in the queue. Approaching people who I believe will reject me - explicitly seeking out a rejection - is one of them.)

So I get out of my car, walk to the main street, and put my backpack down on a bench. I straighten my clothes, fix my hair, and write a leave-behind. Now I'm ready.

Crap, this is hard.

I'm nervous. Afraid to approach people. Just like the last time it was dark.

I think people will be suspicious of me. I think I will feel shamed by people, by rejection tonight. Especially if someone rejects me in front of others. I feel like I am doing something wrong. Bothering people. Not being considerate.

There's a particular bar I want to go to for a beer tonight. I decide that I am not going to ask someone in the bar. (That's a challenge for another day.) I will ask someone outside and then go to the bar. I'll use the beer as my reward for completing this challenge. I don't want to ask someone right outside of the bar. I need to be able to retreat to the safety of the bar after I have the interaction I'm about to have, so I start walking down the street.

A man standing smoking a cigarette and using his phone.  I pass a group of 4 guys. A couple. Two women. Walk down the street, turn right. No one. Turn left. Pass a McDonald's. Woman sitting on the steps. Nope, I think she'd consent. At the corner. It's well lit. This is nice for photographs. Guy crossing the street. Ooh, I should aks him. Crap, I can't. He walks by. I stand there. I right right and keep walking. Another guy. Three people on a bench. Turn right. No one for a block. Guy passes me slowly on a skateboard, only one headphone in. I could ask him, but don't.

Then I look to my left and see the homeless woman sitting on the ground in the entryway of a well-lit storefront.

I've been considering this. Asking a homeless person. It's yet another of the challenges I have in the queue.

Tonight I think I have to ask her. I don't think she is going to be willing to participate.

I stand across the street for a long time, deliberating. Eventually, just do it, I walk across the street to where she's sitting.

"Hello."

"Hello."

She's friendly.

I squat down next to her.

She is an older woman: 50's? 60's? Maybe late 40's. Gosh, I don't know. Her face is weathered. She has shoulder-length white/blond hair. I don't remember what she's wearing, but I do notice she is wearing shoes. Sneakers. She has a little bowl of change sitting in front of her. There isn't much money in there, just a few coins.

"I have a bit of an unusual request."

"OK."

"Every day I ask a stranger to make eye contact with me for 60 seconds."

"Is that something you'd be willing to do with me?"

"Sure."

"Are we timing now?"

"No. I have a timer..."

I take it out of my pocket and show it to her.

"Can you give me a dollar?"

I thought this might happen. I hesitate, unsure of what to say.

"I don't have any money..."

(Truth is, I have many 20's in my wallet. But I'm unwilling to tell her that that's what I have and that it's too much for me to give. I consider buying her participation, i.e. that if I pay her, anything, but especially $20, she'll be a willing participant. I guess this isn't against my rules... But I don't know. I haven't attempted to buy anyone's participation yet. And I don't want to.)

I think I ask her again if she's willing to do it.

"60 seconds of my life...," she pauses, "That's too long."

"OK. Would you be willing to do it if it was for only 30 seconds?"

"30 seconds?"

"Yes."

"OK."

I sit down.

"I'm going to set my timer..."

(I can't change my timer on such short notice to only 30 seconds, but I don't tell her this. I consider letting it run for the whole 60 seconds and pretending like it was 30 seconds, but decide that I won't. That's dishonest and I don't want to be. I decide (mentally) that I will stop the experiment when I feel like 30 seconds has gone by.)

I fiddle with it.

"OK, let's start."

I press the timer button.

This lady is surprisingly good at making eye contact, I think. And I am surprisingly relaxed with her. I find myself looking at her face in my peripheral vision. I don't think I've ever looked this long at a homeless person. Her eyes seem... Kind of warm. Maybe even a little playful? I dunno. A little bit in we both smile. I notice her look away only once. A few seconds later she says "it broke."

She says that she looked one way and I looked another way and we broke our eye contact.

I say that that's OK.

We're done with the session now. It ended unoficially when she decided to talk. I didn't feel like I could ask her to resume it, or simply ignore the fact that she spoke, respond non-verbally (as I've done with other people when they speak during the 60 seconds) and carry on with the time. I don't know how much time elapsed, but I can say that the timer didn't expire. It was probably around 30 seconds. Definitely not 40. Maybe a bit shy of 30. 25.

"Um, so the last thing I ask participants is if they're willing to let me use their first name and photograph on my blog where I am writing about this.""

"Would you be willing to do that?"

"I don't think so." (I think is what she said.)

"OK. May I ask your name?"

"Same as this city."

"Victoria?"

"Yep."

I think I tell her my name, but I can't remember. We shake hands.

To be honest, I do think of the photographs I take as trophies. They're one of my favorite parts of this experiment. I love it when I can take someone's photograph. Interesting thing to be honest about.

So I figure, what the hell, I'll try this:

"May I buy your photograph?"

"I don't sell my pictures. I don't even have pictures of myself."

(Looking back, I think she misunderstood what I meant. I meant pay her for consent to take her photograph, not buy one from her.)

"OK," I say.

I thank her for participating in the experiment and wish her a good night, and I walk away.

I walk back across the street the way I came. I think about how I'm grateful that the crosswalk signal was "green" for me to cross, so I don't wait on the same corner where she is sitting.

As I walk away from here and towards the bar I feel like I used someone tonight.

I feel like an asshole.