What Happens When We Choose Interaction Over Isolation?
How a TSA agent convinced me that I should strike up more conversations with strangers
A few weeks ago, something happened that changed the way I interact with the world.
It was a Thursday morning, and I was heading out on a one-day trip that I feared would leave me exhausted. Feeling preemptively weary, I headed to the TSA line at Terminal F — the hinterlands of Philadelphia International, and home to many of American Airlines’ regional flights.
I have an insulin pump, which I always need to have hand-checked by TSA because it sets off metal detectors, and while I waited for the agent, I noticed that the people in front of me in line had an unusually shaped, circular bag. As the TSA agent slowly unzipped it, its contents were revealed: it contained nothing but a giant, rainbow-colored drum adorned with feathers, big enough to require its own piece of luggage.
“It’s for a spiritual retreat,” explained the owner of the bag, gesturing toward the feathers.
The officer shrugged and waved them through, seemingly unfazed.
I, on the other hand, was left with questions — not so much about the drum or retreat (though I had questions about those, too), but about the officer’s response. What else had this man seen in people’s bags that made a giant, feathery, rainbow drum so un-noteworthy?
Could I ask him?
Enter The Choice
In his excellent book, A Little More Social, Nicholas Epley writes about what he calls “the choice”: the decision of whether — and how — we choose to interact with other people in any given moment.
“The precise details behind each instance of ‘the choice’ vary, but its basic features are simple,” writes Epley. “Do you choose to approach another person and connect in some well-intended way, or do you choose to avoid the interaction and stay more disconnected?”
In other words, do you try to strike up a conversation with the head of TSA at Philadelphia International Airport, or do you just continue on your way?

According to Epley, our instinct is often to avoid interactions, especially with strangers. But scientific research shows that interaction is usually the better choice:
“Being kind to someone, connecting with a stranger in conversation, acting friendlier when you’re around others, passing along a compliment, expressing gratitude when you feel it, reflecting on your appreciation for others, and even just saying hello to a bus driver or barista are all activities that scientists reliably find increase our happiness.” —Nick Epley
And so I decided to interact.
How small choices create unexpected happiness and connection
To be clear, the TSA officer wasn’t giving off particularly friendly vibes, but — inspired by Nick Epley — I felt compelled to try.
“You must find a lot of interesting things in people’s bags,” I said as I handed him my insulin pump, throwing up a conversational test balloon.
He said nothing as he swabbed my pump to test it for signs of explosives, and I wondered if perhaps it had been a mistake to attempt playful small talk at 7 o’clock in the morning with a TSA supervisor at one of the busiest airports in the country.
But then he cracked the smallest of smiles.
“Yeah,” he said. “‘Interesting is a good word for it.”
I took this as encouragement.
“What’s the craziest thing you’ve ever found in someone’s bag?” I asked.
Again, silence.
Had I gone too far? Was the question too weird? Was I going to get pulled aside for additional screening?
But apparently he had simply been mulling my question, because after a few more seconds he looked me right in the eye and said — and I swear I am not making this up:
“A boa constrictor.”
I was so surprised that I laughed. I thought he might have said a gun, or drugs. Perhaps an exotic fruit.1 But not a boa constrictor.
“Wait, you mean you found a live snake?” I asked.
“Yup,” he said, handing me my pump. “The scanner showed something coiled up in the bag, and I’m thinking, ‘Maybe it’s a salami.’ And then I saw its head poking out and I’m like, ‘I am not opening that bag.’”

Reader, it’s hard for me to begin to list for you the many, many reasons why this interaction left me so delighted. One was the idea that someone thought they could get away with sneaking a live snake onto a plane. Because really, how did they expect that to play out?
I also was delighted by the idea that anyone would confuse a snake with a salami.
But I think what delighted me the most was the unexpected moment of laughter — and, therefore, connection — that my question had created between me and the TSA officer. He and I were both smiling as we parted ways, and he seemed like he had also enjoyed getting to share his extremely odd story with a stranger.
I walked away from the security screening line feeling both giddy (a boa constrictor??) and inspired to follow Epley’s advice more broadly: When presented with The Choice, I’ll do my best to choose to interact. The worst case scenario is that someone ignores me or is grumpy or I end up feeling awkward. But the best case scenario is an unexpected moment of human connection and delight.
The Choice Can Be Contagious
I felt so delighted by this boa constrictor story that I immediately called my husband to tell him about it. (This is after I ran into the owner of the drum while waiting in line at Starbucks and told her about it, too, as well as pretty much everyone I interacted with for the next three days.)
And here’s where things get particularly interesting: my husband was taking a flight the next day, and he ended up feeling so inspired by my Choice (and story) that he asked the same question to the TSA officer who checked his bag. In other words, my decision to interact with a stranger ended up changing my husband’s Choice, too.
So what did that officer say, you ask? He told my husband that he’d once caught someone trying to bring on a katana. As in, a 3-foot-long Japanese sword.2

I love both of these stories, not just because of their details, but also because they’re such great examples of how choosing to interact with strangers can lead to unexpectedly delightful results.
Now I’m not necessarily encouraging you to ask the next TSA officer you encounter what the strangest thing is that they’ve found in someone’s luggage (though if you try this, please do report back). But what I most definitely am encouraging you to do (especially Life Lab members!) is to keep an eye out for your own opportunities to make The Choice — do you stay silent, or do you choose to interact? — and see what happens if you pick the latter.
Here’s to scrolling less, living more, and choosing interaction over isolation,
PS: What’s one of your favorite stories about The Choice in your own life? Tell us about it in the comments.
Or, for that matter, just something weird. For example, I have a friend who once flew home with — and I’m not sure why — an entire suitcase filled with nothing but Twizzlers.
The person with the katana didn’t have malevolent intentions. He’d actually tried to check the katana, but due to the strange shape of its bag, the person working the checked baggage counter had told him he needed to bring it as carry-on. (The clerk clearly did not ask him what was inside.)



In my late 20's and 30's when I was still single and living the freest version of my one big beautiful life, I used to travel for work. While there were certainly days when people exhausted me, for the most part, I loved it! Airports are a breeding ground for interesting stories, and the more I made "The Choice", the more I gobbled them up. On one of those trips when I was closer to exhaustion than exhilaration, I overheard a young man in uniform in the waiting area telling the people around him about his new baby, whom he was flying home to meet for the first time. He was noticeably anxious, leg bopping all over the place while he wrung his hands, but he was also clearly already in love, a baby-faced smile lighting his cheeks. I didn't have the energy to talk to him, but as I boarded the plane, I asked the flight attendant if I could swap seats, giving this young man my first class seat. I pre-ordered him a glass of champagne to toast his news and dutifully headed back to coach. When the young man found "his seat", I was sitting in it and a look of confusion and unease crossed his face. I smiled, and told him I heard his news and was hoping he'd accept a bit of a congratulations gift and take my seat in first class. I have never seen a grown man so excited in my entire life. He almost yelled, 'REALLY?!?" and pumped my hand up and down thanking me. I smiled for the entire flight, stuck in the middle with no elbow room. I think about that young many often, even though its been over a decade since that flight. That choice to interact with him in that way did so much more for me than it did for him, and I sincerely hope he will tell his little girl the story one day, to pay the choice forward so she knows that her Daddy was talking about her in an airport even before he met her. Thank you for reminding me about my choice and why its so important to keep choosing people and humanity first.
Last week, I got on the elevator in the parking garage at work and briefly chatted with a gentleman who I discovered was a veteran. He was walking with the aid of a wheeled walker. When we got to the first floor, my inclination was to say a quick "have a good day" and rush inside the building (I was running late). But, I chose to walk with him; his slow, steady steps made me slow down (literally and figuratively). We had a very nice conversation. When we got to the front door, a coworker of his was waiting for him (it seemed like they had a routine). I'm grateful for the opportunity to slow down to connect with a stranger. ☺️