We are the friendly. 

Working outside of the common laws of discourse, we discreetly create networks of hellos and how are yous. The average, surly looking man next to you on the bus could just as easily be one of our own, his demeanor could change with the most innocuous of smiles, the most fleeting of greetings. There are more of us than you think. 

There are no secret handshakes, no hidden signals, no passwords or codes. We stand, each one of us alone, against the barrage of the scornful and annoyed, hoping to find the others of our kind in the crowds of discontented. We are a disease in a culture of the cool and aloof, and we, airborne, infect the masses one exchange at a time. With a good word and a cheerful smile, furtively passed along in fear of disdain, we arm ourselves every day to take on each stranger’s condescension in stride. 

Join our ranks; we fight the good fight.