I’m waiting for a pizza to take to my dad. I’m reading a magazine irrelevant to improving anything in the world. It exists to sell cool crap. It makes a lot of money.
One, two, three, four people come to the counter and order. They order in the most curious ways. Something is a bit off as they order. Are they off? What is off? Am I off?
It’s raining outside. I watch these people. I eavesdrop. What is going on?
They are at the pizza joint. They all repair to the back room and gather around a long table. Their orders arrive and they dig in. They are talking and laughing and eating with gusto. I watch them.
More members of their group arrive. I hear more information.
It’s some kind of autism meet-up group, facilitated by social media. A social medial behemoth is making money from the facilitation of this meet-up, but that seems okay. It got people together and they are building community. They are talking and living well.