Pleasantries are underrated

So I'm in Au Bon Pain picking out a bagel when I hear a voice say "good morning." After a moment I register that the voice is speaking to me.

"Good morning," I reply without so much as a glance.

"How are you?" the voice continues. I look over. She is a petite woman who is sweeping the floor near the bagels.

I hesitate. Maybe the employees have been told to be friendly. But then the "good morning" would have sufficed. I'm confused. "Oh, I'm fine, thanks."

"I love your skirt," she says.

"Oh, thanks!" I say. Her flattery has brought down my guard. "I bought it at a street fair in the fall, so this is actually the first time I'm wearing it," I confess.

"Well, it's beautiful! You have great legs. I wish I had legs like that. My legs are too skinny for a skirt."

I laugh. We're friends now. "Of course you'd think that," I tell her. "Everyone wants something different. I'd love to have skinny legs." (This is not true—I love my legs—but I wanted to make her feel better.)

We parted ways when I moved to get coffee, but after I paid and was on my way out, I passed her again, and we wished for each other to have great days.

Simple as it sounds, that exchange made my morning.

In my daily life, it feels like New Yorkers get accustomed to wearing stone cold masks around the city. It's something you get used to, and almost grow to like: There is inner strength in isolation, or so it seems. But this sprightly Au Bon Pain employee casually broke the barrier I so often construct, and I am grateful for her spirit.

I wonder what Manhattan would feel like if more people were like her....