This may be the best idea I’ve ever had. For two weeks, I relinquished[17] control over my decisions. I turned the reins over[18] to perfect strangers.
At a Starbucks, I was perspiring heavily from a bike ride when I started to ask the woman beside me what I wanted to drink.[19] She cut me off midway through my spiel about how I was conducting a social experiment and whatnot.[20]
“Just have a water,” she said, snatching a bottle from the front case and thrusting it at me.[21]
She herself ordered something that took the barista[22] 11 moves to make, but I was suddenly a model of simplicity: a sweaty man drinking cold water.
Moments later, I asked a man at the newsstand if I should become a night shaver instead of a morning shaver.[23] I always wanted to be a night shaver—go to bed cleanly shaven and wake up with sexy stubble that would be alluring until at least noon and...[24]
“Absolutely not,” the gentleman said.
I’m sure he’s right.
Later in the day, when I asked a sandy-haired woman at Old Navy to pick out a shirt for me,[25] she quickly devoted herself to the cause.
“I want you to have a crisper, cleaner look,” she exclaimed.[26]
I was still feeling crisp and clean when I stopped at the library. The mission: to give a stranger the chore of selecting a book for me to read.
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