Sonder in a Cell Phone Store: How Empathy Changed my Life.
sonder (noun) the profound feeling of realizing that everyone, including strangers passing in the street, has a life as complex as your own.
What is Sonder?
You know those moments when you’re just sipping coffee at Dunkin or people-watching in a park, and suddenly it hits you? You realize that every single person around you has their own unique life story, full of ups, downs, and dreams. You realize the mom in the corner is probably worrying about nine other things beyond just her screaming toddler.
That feeling has a name—sonder.
Meeting “Stacy”
A few years ago, I was working at an electronics store. Let’s call them “Shmapple” (difficult one to decipher, I know). One afternoon, an older customer—let’s call her Stacy—came in, absolutely livid because her phone wasn’t working.
She went from person to person, insulting and yelling at every single one of my coworkers. Management spoke with her but didn’t kick her out (for some reason), and I’m so glad they didn’t.
For context, I don’t want to sound arrogant, but it’s important for why I was asked to “deal with” Stacy. I had a reputation in the store for great customer service and deescalation. I really only had three or four reviews that were less than five stars in my entire career at “Shmapple.”
I loved people, I loved conversations, and I was good at them. Remembering names, remembering stories—it made the job more than just selling tech.
So, I was given the opportunity to course-correct with Stacy.
She started in on me like she had with everyone else, yelling about how she needed her phone to talk to her boyfriend and for work, blaming us for it not working. But something told me this wasn’t just about a phone.
A Different Approach
After Stacy finished her rant, I took a deep breath and said:
“Stacy, I know we need to get this phone fixed, and I know you’re stressed, but can I ask you a personal question?”
She agreed. So, I asked her if she was okay.
I told her that I knew everyone was a little pent up—this was right as stores reopened after the pandemic—and I said I had a feeling that this wasn’t just about her phone.
She looked at me, eyes welling with tears, and said:
“I just don’t know if I can be with him anymore. He’s mad that my phone isn’t working. He wants Find My iPhone on, but he also wants me out of the store in time. We’ve only been together for six weeks.”
And then she asked me if I thought she should leave him.
The Weight of a Stranger’s Trust
Woah, what?
A complete stranger was trusting some sales person in a phone store to help her make a decision that would impact her life deeply.
I was honored and terrified by the responsibility, but I knew I was meant to be part of Stacy’s story that night.
And yes, I told her to dump the guy faster than Capone dumped a snitch into the Chicago River.
Not only was she feeling roped into a controlling, toxic relationship, but she shared something even heavier—her husband had passed away a year and a half prior. This was her first relationship since his death.
I told her that no one should treat her that way. I told her that her husband sounded like a great man, and I hoped he haunted this asshole for a while to make sure he didn’t treat anyone else like that.
That was the moment I finally saw Stacy crack a smile.
Ironically, I couldn’t even get her a new phone (carrier issues), but she didn’t care about that anymore. She hugged me before leaving, thanking me for simply being there.
She came in because she needed help—she just didn’t realize what kind of help she needed.
More Than Just a Job
That night, I stopped seeing my job as just selling phones. I realized I was there for something greater than myself.
I had to show forgiveness, love, and massive empathy to a complete stranger that I knew I would never see again—simply because she needed someone.
I don’t know if Stacy remembers me, but I remember her. And I’m grateful for what that conversation taught me.
That day wasn’t about the numbers. It wasn’t just about the phone. I wasn’t the main character in the story and that was a good thing.
Moving Forward
Since then, I’ve had more interactions like the one with Stacy, and it’s been a beautiful experience. It changed how I see the world.
When I started realizing that everyone I meet has their own journey, it made me more open to understanding where they’re coming from. Of course, we all know other people exist, but we rarely stop to feel their perspective.
I started asking more questions. Really listening. Suddenly, I had this superpower—the ability to truly connect with people.
And when you realize that every person is multi-dimensional, it’s a lot harder to judge them.
Gratitude on Steroids
Those random moments of connection, those chats with strangers, those shared smiles… they mean so much more now. It’s a constant reminder that life is a beautiful mix of experiences, and every interaction has the potential to be something special.
So next time you’re people-watching, instead of rolling your eyes at a screaming kid or mocking someone’s goofy hat, take a moment to really see them.
Recognize that behind every face is a story.
Imagine every taxi in your way is a mom late to her dream job interview, with a sick kid at home.
Imagine that angry bicyclist is a grandpa who hasn’t seen his grandkids in years.
Imagine that cranky teen at the drive-thru just got screamed at by his not-so-sober parents before he left for work today.
Really try to put yourself in someone else’s shoes.
It’s a big task. But the more you do it, the more you realize one simple truth:
We are all more alike than we think.
If you would like to support but can’t subscribe right now, buy me a coffee!
Great story. Even better attitude. Maybe it’s simply having love for people. Ever considered being a counsellor ?
This reminded me of my time at “Geek Bar” probably also not hard to decipher!
I mostly helped elder people and the true problems were never their technology, they simply felt abandoned.
Keep it up!