Sometimes when I walk down the street I pretend to be someone else. Someone with a completely different life. I walk the way that imagined person would walk. If for any reason I have to say anything, like maybe an “excuse me” in a line, or a “thank you” at the checkout counter, I’ll say it the way the imagined person says it.

And the imagined person then becomes real. His reality is confirmed by the people around him. Their response to him, whether it’s friendliness or fear or anger, validates the existence of the imagined person and for those moments of connection, there is no difference.

Sometimes it happens because I’m in a particularly good mood. In that mood, I might smile at other people, which I normally don’t do. The normal me would never smile for no reason at a stranger. But the imagined person, the happy person, well he smiles at everything. Old women react well. Younger people do not.

Sometimes it happens at work. I pretend to be assertive and productive. I move about the offices and labs like an engineer, creating mechanisms of production out of groups of people as if they were tools in a giant machine. The oil in that machine is friendliness and correctness: when morale is high and everyone is happy, work gets done fast and well. Adding oil is easy. When things slow down, the imagined engineer speaks with people and jokes with them and maybe asks if they want to take a quick walk. The key to that interaction being successful is that the imagined engineer needs to be correct about 99% of whatever they say. People need to trust that he knows best. If they do, the machine will work. So pretending to be the person means pretending to be always right. It is interesting that pretending to be mostly right usually results in actually being that way. The social reaction, either compliance or thankfulness, confirms the existence of the pretend person, and in that instant there is no difference between what’s imagined and what’s real.

Sometimes it happens when out in a group. That’s much rarer though. More often than not, I prefer no group. I find that people speak for the sake of speaking, saying almost nothing. It’s the ceaseless sound of mutual assurances that everything is fine between everyone. They say little that doesn’t directly serve the function of ameliorating the natural anxieties that exist between people in a group.  The effect it has is encouragement of chatter.

“I engaged in small talk.” I played the game.

I always find myself wanting to ask the other person if they realize they’re participating in a game, and to let them I’d prefer if they just be themselves.

“But that is myself!”

And that’s the crux.

Who knows. Ultimately, your pretend person of those moments is not real. When the distinction between the two is lost, what happens is that you end up pretending that your pretend person is real…

…and then you’re really down the rabbit hole. If I’m in a lounge or a bar, I can be so far down the rabbit hole that there’s no way out until I can get some time to process everything.

You could argue that Hamlet is temporarily real, and that our pretend selves are as real as any. I would respond that that’s only true from the perspective of the audience. The actor playing Hamlet knows that his reality is distinct from the character, and that is how he’s able to play the role so well: deliberately, consciously, skillfully, purposefully– not “naturally”. What’s left in the mind of the audience, your audience, might be real, but you will always know the difference, won’t you?

You are not the only actor on this stage. Everyone you’ve ever known is doing the same pretending. How many of them do you know for who they are, rather than the roles they play for their audiences, of which you are a mere part? Would you argue there is no difference, and that we imagine ourselves into a role that then becomes real? Or is there a difference between the imagined and the real? You can decide this for yourself.

Social interaction is a game of acting. But there’s a real self, your real self, that makes the decision to act in specific ways, to do certain things, even deciding what is liked or hated. Sometimes it feels like you don’t have a choice, but that’s because you’re down the rabbit hole, pretending that your pretend person is real.  If you lose it, your real self, then the imagined one will be all that’s left, and that one is a product of your audience, rather than you.

At that point, you no longer exist.

So don’t do that, little monkeys. It’s better the other way, when you exist.

Off to the airport, wish me luck if you can.