Say Hi to me on an elevator it will increase my life span

I heard about a study on NPR yesterday that found that people who have more social interactions during the course of their day, regardless of the quality of the interaction, which they didn't measure, had a tendency to live longer. I'm as shocked as you are by these findings, like most Americans I tend to regard people, unless I know them previously and have set up a time to meet them, as egregious nuisances placed on the earth to thwart my good intentions. How could more interaction with these scurrying insects result in any benefit to my life? I've been told that I should probably refrain from referring to my fellow humans as scurrying insects if I ever decide to run for political office.

Well, I suppose that's the trick. If I stand behind you in the grocery store as you fumble with your coupons and heckle the cashier over the price of artichokes, you are, annoying sub-species of person specifically designed to enact the most amount of irritation into my day. However, if you turn around and say, "I'm sorry," or even, "It sure is hot out there," you immediately become charming old woman who just can't find her coupons this one time and who is justly arguing against the corporate bastards trying to overcharge her for an artichoke. It's pretty much that simple. I like Jane Austen anyway but when I came across this quote I liked her even more,
I DON'T WANT PEOPLE TO BE AGREEABLE...IT SAVES ME THE TROUBLE OF LIKING THEM. --JANE AUSTEN
Apologies, Jane was always bit of a shouter surprisingly. This takes me back on a little trip earlier in my day, when, an unnamed party, stood next to me on an elevator without saying a word. Now, this is not entirely unusual behavior for an elevator. I don't get on elevators hoping to have delightful little chats with the people around me. In fact, in the enclosed space of an elevator silence can often feel oppressive, and I find myself doing things like whistling, even though I don't whistle, to try and alleviate stress. Or I stare at the top portion of the elevator as if it is a mobile and I am a child.
However, in this case, the subject and I had shared an elevator ride on the previous day. A ride in which I had magnanimously lightened the mood by querying said subject about his/her job, and we exchanged the usual sort of pleasantries before departing for our respective posts. Which means, that I was kind enough to break the seal of silence and relative anonymity that can exist between two parties, neigh, between any two human beings and my repayment for this indescribably bold action! Nothing. No repayment of the gesture. The subject stood solidly, no, bovinely whilst the elevator bounded around inside the building. Not a word was passed between the two of us. The onus, in the second case, not being up on me, but upon the non-interlocutor for the second interaction, which is to say, I'm tired of being friendly without any friendliness in return. And now, without really breaking down just what the term friendly means, if one is only friendly in order to receive friendliness in return, is that truly being friendly? or should we call it something else? Desiring reciprocity.
The point being, that, not only was the non-interlocutor being annoying only one day after I had bridged the gap as it were, but, they were also depriving me of my very own life source. Perhaps I shall live five seconds shorter because of the non-interlocutor. This is a tragedy that knows no bounds. That being said, I often find people, even those I love irritating, and interacting with them constantly would leave me devoid of any of the quality time that I get to spend writing. So, moderation in all things I suppose. But NO!
My only mild sense of pleasure came upon the exit of the non-interlocutor, when I realized that such behavior would no doubt result in an earlier grave for that personage, and if the behavior was consistent, perhaps as early as four decades or so.
At which point, I found myself engaged in a bit of self-interrogation, wondering whether the sort of slight on an elevator for a mere seven seconds should insight such remonstrations and sentencing to early graves. However, I've always found self-reflection a bit too reflexive, and not entirely useful, so I went back downstairs and made sure to say hi to the cleaning lady on my way to try and gain back a fraction of one of those seconds that I had lost.