The Lost Art of the Heads Up

One of the most human things we can do is give another a heads up. It is the ultimate courtesy. It means, on some level, that you have acknowledged another person.

Keeping that in mind, on the drive to my office this morning after an early client meeting, I scarfed down an icing-covered pastry — an apple fritter, the one pastry I might actually kill for. I was famished and between rhyming along to vintage Biggie Smalls and taking bites with my “windows down and my system up,” I couldn’t have cared less about crumbs, decorum, or who saw me.

As I parked and trotted from my car into my building, though, I passed six different suited and booted busy-looking people who met my gaze. Several were on cell phones, smiled awkwardly, and then looked away. A couple of them just looked away hastily, leaving me to wonder if I was scowling unwittingly or maybe had some schmutz on my face.

Turns out it was the latter. Person number seven, a barista from the cafe in my building, stopped me in the lobby before I could step onto an elevator. She literally held up her hand like a crossing guard, said, “Hold up! Pause!” I stopped on a dime like we were playing freeze tag.

“I need you to do like this, G,” she said, rubbing her the corners of her mouth.

So, I whipped out my iPhone, reversed the camera and stared at a mouth flecked with icing. Six people had let me walk past them, looking like Tyrone Biggums and hadn’t said a word. One young woman, clearly in a hurry as well, took a…