I used to wear my iPod everywhere.

Walking to school, iPod. Sitting on the subway, iPod. Waiting for class to start, iPod. Grocery shopping, iPod. I never went anywhere without music.

There’s lots of reasons I chose music over realty, strange men telling me I should be their girlfriend at 8:30 AM certainly being one of them, but the easiest answer is that I didn’t really think there was much the world could offer me while I was alone. Walking by yourself can be a semi-lonely activity, especially if you’ve got a long way to go and don’t see many friendly faces on your way there.

So, I was plugged in. Walking quickly and keeping my face blank (looking too friendly in the city is sometimes an open invitation for crazy people to ask you to pet their plastic snake), I spent my days forging ahead and allowing The Police to soundtrack my life.

Until I overheard a conversation that changed everything.

Having forgotten my headphones that morning, I was walking to school without musical aid. It was the first time in a long while I had ventured out without programmable audio, and I was trying to figure out how to function, when I accidentally eavesdropped on two men walking ahead of me.

“See, there goes another one! Another beautiful girl with her goddamn headphones on!” The guy in front of me hit his friend in frustration. “How am I ever supposed to start conversations with pretty strangers if they block their ears all the time?!”

“I’ve noticed that,” the second, less angry and animated man agreed. “These chicks got their headphones on all the time now. They don’t even look up on the subway anymore.”

“That’s why I haven’t bought an iPod yet. Because I crave random social interaction. Well, that and because Apple is a giant conglomerate that’s poised to steal this Nation’s soul.”

As the duo turned the corner, I waited for the Walk sign to give me the go-ahead and thought about what I had just heard. Before the first guy had dived into schizophrenia, he had been making sense sense. How do you start a conversation with someone who’s already occupied?

I walked up Second Avenue and realized I was one of those girls who turned her Kelly Clarkson up and stared at the ground while she rode the subway. How many conversations with cute boys had I inadvertently avoided? How many sweet faces had I accidentally ignored?

I began to forget my headphones on purpose. I began to ride the subway sans iPod or book, and walked the streets of New York with my eyes and ears open (happily, that weird guy with the plastic snake had moved on to avenues elsewhere). Soon, I was hearing intriguing conversations, noticing people in a way I had never noticed before, and stumbling across more good-looking guys than I had ever thought existed.

The schizophrenic Hipster had been right. The world is a whole lot more interesting when you leave your iPod at home.

These days, I rarely listen to anything while walking, and whip out the trusty Apple soul-stealer during long trips only. It’s gotten to the point where having music in my ears feels constricting.

And yes, I’ve had some conversations with cute strangers. I’ve also had some conversations with insane and annoying strangers—but you know, it’s all part of the experience.

…I mean, how many times in a person’s life do they get to listen to an old woman explain how the zucchinis in Whole Foods “whisper through their skin” to help her pick out lottery numbers? My guess is only once.