Using a totally non-scientific WAG, I’d suppose I’ve met a hundred thousand human beings already. Only a dozen or so women (and a few men) have ever seen me at my most raw, unguarded and vulnerable.

That’s a pretty awful closing ratio for friendship and intimacy with humanity — less than 0.02%.

Having spent most of my life in the superficial sales and customer service world, I could be off by as much as ten thousand or more, which only makes the ratio worse. Regardless, a majority of the people I’ve interacted with at arms length remain no more than generic mental constructs human beings who needed or wanted something from me.

For example, the man who asked for my order at CPK last week or the security guard at the studio entrance who requested my ID; neither could I identify with certainty in a police lineup.

Both men are surely wonderful people worthy of being remembered and celebrated by their friends and family, yet we interacted on a transactional basis for only a moment. They could very well have been robots, and may be one day soon. We interacted only once. If I worked at the studio or became a regular at the restaurant, the outcome could be different.

Friendships arise from common interests, such as a favorite team, shared beliefs or mutual hobbies. People today have fewer close friends, but the effort to find and cultivate them pays long term dividends. I recently had dinner with old friends I hadn’t seen in more than a decade, yet our lively interaction was as easy and fluid as the day I left town.

From there I met up with a new friend and the conversation flowed just as easily. With so much left to discover as we interact over the coming years, I’m excited to begin the friendship adventure anew.

Or as Albert Camus stated more eloquently:

“Don’t walk in front of me; I may not follow. Don’t walk behind me; I may not lead. Just walk beside me and be my friend.”

— The Impostor