I walked to the nearest gas station, at 3:30 a.m., because I felt like having a snack. I… I walked to the nearest gas station, at 3:30 a.m., because I felt like having a snack. I said, “How’s it going?” to the man mopping the floor, just being polite.

He replied, “You put me in mind of John Ritter.”

Not a greeting that I hear often or, indeed, at all. But it has to be the best I’ve heard in a while.

The bottom line is that it was intriguing, and it invited a response in a way that “How’s it going?” only dreams of.

Yet, in spite of the wonderful possibilities inherent in a greeting such as, “You put me in mind of John Ritter,” most of us tend to stick to more commonplace salutations.

“How’s it going?” is predictable, and usually draws one of only a few responses: good, bad, all right, the ever-so-creative and witty it’s going, etc. Personally, I almost always pick bad. Even on the best day of my life, I would pick bad, because the other person generally asks, “Oh, what’s the matter?” and then you have a conversation.

Of course, I probably come across as an extremely depressed person, seeing as how I’m always doing so poorly.

When I talk with friends, I keep in mind that it’s much more fun to say something interesting. However, I tend not to say interesting things, because I don’t want to seem crazier or weirder than I actually am.

To be perfectly honest, the man seemed both crazy and weird. I imagined some sort of sick shrine to John Ritter as the decorating motif, along the lines of John Doe’s apartment in “Seven,” but with pictures of John Ritter in heart-shaped frames. I told myself to make sure this guy didn’t see where I was going when I left.

But I pursued the conversation, in part because it was the least boring greeting I have encountered in some time, and in part because he said “put me in mind of” rather than “remind me of.” That’s cool.

I left with the impression that there wasn’t anything malfunctioning in the man’s brain, simply that he said what was on his mind. Which is also cool. I, myself, tend to stop and think, “Do I really want to say this?” My conversation is heavily filtered. I imagine I’m far from alone here.

It worries me, somewhat, because I sometimes think that my friends like me, not because of who I am, but because I filter my thoughts well.

Not this guy. It crossed his mind and he said it, all within about five seconds. The last time I did that, a girl, who was my best friend at the time, stopped speaking to me. We have not spoken since, and may never again.

So, for me, it came down to a simple choice: spontaneity or friends.

I still haven’t decided. For me, speaking my mind is akin to comedy. You take a chance, and sometimes it’s golden, other times it’s Ted Danson.

I get a lot of Ted Danson moments. A lot of awkward silences and blank stares. A lot of times where the answer to “Do I really want to say this?” is NO.

But it bothers me that 95 percent of my conversations begin the exact same way. I keep waiting for someone to say, “You asked me that yesterday.”

Or maybe, if I don’t want to hear the same answers, I should ask different questions.

E-mail Marty Flaherty at [email protected] if you have any idea why he would put someone in mind of John Ritter.