when did i stop being jane doe?

anonymity is a hot commodity. you wouldn't think so in a city of eight million people, but it is. and when it's taken from you slowly, you don't realize that the action is taking place, until one day you look around and realize that there's certain places that you can no longer go unless you want to be engaged. detachment, when this happens, is no longer an option.

and i'm not talking about the celebrity-style loss of anonymity, when you can't go anywhere without being harassed. i'm talking about the anonymity that we average joes and josephines enjoy. the kind of anonymity that means we don't always have to have a proper conversation with the person making our sandwiches, or selling us shampoo or what have you. the kind of anonymity that means you don't have to be switched on into social mode those times you don't really want to. i am having one of those days where i wish i were anonymous.

it's not that i'm harboring any greivances or anything, or that i dislike any of the people i see in the day to day, down here in the financial district. but, sometimes, i'd like to go have a cigarette without being accosted by the guy who works the desk at this building on the way out. sometimes i'd like to go buy coffee at the pret-a-manger without having the process be more than an exchange of basic pleasantries and currency.

god, that sounds horrible, doesn't it? it's not meant to. sometimes, i just want a few minutes to be alone in my head, in my bubble with my smoke and my beverage and that song in my head and not have to deal with other people, or worry about whether i'm paying enough attention or being friendly enough.

or, for the love of god, feel obligated to carry on a conversation in the elevator when all i want to do is watch those numbers drop away.