In the past week or two, I have been the surprised recipient of not one, not two, but three apologies from three different people. In each case the person has asked pardon for being distracted, distressed, or ill during a conversation and therefore not suitably engaged. In all three situations I hadn’t really noticed that the person was not suitably engaged. A side benefit of being somewhat slow to pick up on social cues? Or more to do with the fact that I expect every encounter to be awkward because, hey, I’m new? I’m trying to pry my way into a city and a community that, frankly, was doing just fine before I came along. “Move over!” I say. “I’m coming in!” Pointy elbows primed for action, tap shoes shined up for the song and dance. Do-re-mi-fa-so-la-ti-DO.

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