No matter where you live, work, shop for groceries or walk your dog (or hamster), there’s a set of people you see every day. Many of the people you see that often have direct contact with you. They have a reason to acknowledge your presence, and maybe even speak to you.

Then there are the others. These are the people you pass by, but don’t talk to and maybe don’t even know their names. Those people interest me.

I work with roughly seven other people, and usually not more than two or three of them at a time. But I see 10 or 15 other individuals at some point in my work day, where my only real knowledge about them is where the work, and perhaps how good they are at making my food.

The most entertaining and puzzling bunch is at the store right across the hall from us. During weekdays, there’s not much going on for either group. We do a lot of standing and staring out into space, and basically looking right at each other.

I have nicknames for most of the people there. They help me create personas for each one, and if they happen to do something funny the name aids in retelling the story to one of my coworkers.

My favorite used to be Samurai Guy. He’s probably in his late 40s, has a grey ponytail that goes two feet down his back and wears glasses. He looks like someone who has a black belt and is full of knowledge. I liked the presence of such a guy in my view, just in case something went down and I needed ninja qualities to come to my aid.

Then he did something to make me not like him so much. He broke the barrier.

You see, we have contact with most of the other stores in our little hallway. We bum change from Journeys. A couple of the guys have gotten phones from Sprint. We chat with the kiosks in front of us, especially the one manned by the guy we call Fabio.

But not our neighbors across the hall. Never. Ever.

So when Samurai guy left his store, I watched as his came straight towards us and never made his normal turn. He wasn’t going to the food court or the book store. He was coming right for us. I didn’t know what to do.

All of this would have been fine if he came in, kicked someone and rolled out. But instead he asked about softball cleats for his daughter in a voice that was not at all like the Samurai I had in my head. Samurai Guy was dead.

Oh well, I still have Pringles Guy and Bald Manager Guy. They just hired some new people, so I’ll have to work on names for them. Maybe I should just go ask them their names. Nah, not as fun.

My favorite part of this phenomenon is the person you just start saying hi to, and from then on it’s like a game to see how that interaction is going to go.

I’ve got this going with a couple of people at kiosks that are on my way to Taco Bell. If the attendant is not helping a customer, and we make eye contact, they get some sort of “Hey, how’s it going?” That’s the furthest any conversation has gone. Some days they are on top of things and seem happy that someone even acknowledged their existence. Other days I just get a little head nod. Sometimes I get nothing, but having spent far too many hours with little to do in that mall, I know the ease of totally checking out mentally for a bit.

There’s always tomorrow.

If you’re in need of some entertainment, go here.