I’ve been bartending since I was 18 years old in downtown Boston and I’ve seen it all. Or at least as much of humanity as you can see from behind a slab of wood for three years.
From the other side of my far too narrow bar, I’ve been clued in on the secret to a long-lasting marriage as an elderly couple celebrates their 50th anniversary with a cold Sam Adams and a glass of pinot noir. I’ve listened to a 30-year-old man who has just lost his father recall his fondest childhood memories while drowning his grief in a bottle of Jack Daniels. I’ve laughed with a fiancée on her bachelorette bar crawl as her sash sags and her eyes gloss from the day of celebration and I’ve poured the toasted glasses of a family exploring a new city. I connect with strangers all day, every day.
When it comes to our generation, I’ve found we only muster up the confidence to connect when we are working or intoxicated.
Today, we have cultivated a culture of hyper-independence and painful nonchalance. Architects have built bustling cities with the main attraction being opportunity and connection, and our phones, warped self-perceptions and fear of intimacy have crushed this creation. We’ve allowed the endless possibility of human connection to drown within the confines of a fast-paced, media-obsessed and cut-throat culture.
A young group of guys my age will sit at my bar and discuss how attractive they find a group of girls. They’ll sit and obsess as the night grows stronger and so do their drink orders. Only when they’ve reached their fifth drink will they begin to make the first move, asking me to send one of the girls a shot. How romantic.
In a world fixated on the amount of story likes we receive, the amount of time we wait to Snapchat someone we’re interested in back and how long we should wait before texting after a first date, we have brought the definition of the word nonchalant to new, concerning levels. We have created dating apps where we make our decisions off others’ looks, rather than their souls. I now know your go-to two truths and a lie and the tux you wore to a cousin’s wedding before I know the sound of your voice, the smell of your cologne or how your smile lines settle after belly laughing.
As a result of this normalized obsession with social media presence, we have created an epidemic of loneliness, social anxiety and depression. The lack of real-life conversational skills we harbor directly affects our loneliness. Without conversation, we lack tone, sincerity and real-time reaction in our connections. We lack authentic personality.
Start by getting up from the bar and striking conversation. Get on the T after work and ask the person next to you about their day. Ask to pet the dog, compliment the stranger’s dress. We have to stop measuring our worth and the depth of our connections in likes and swipes, and rather in how we authentically interact.
Linger at the dinner table, speak to the pretty girl and take the cooking class. Take heed of your life and redefine connection. You’re the only one who can enrich your own life.
