Matt and I went to Applebee’s a few nights ago to say hello to an old friend of his who works there.

We waited at the bar until his friend got off work. The bar faucet was gushing out steaming hot water at full blast, draining out of a teeny, tiny little sink that never filled up. The water was on when we sat down, so who knows how long it had been on before our arrival? The entire time, the lone bartender ran around frantically texting, I-phone in hand, screaming every detail of the Ebay bid she was trying to win.

Finally, after about fifteen minutes, when I could stand it no more, I said gently, “You know, I come from a place where we have to conserve water. Can you turn the faucet off? Please?”

I should mention that this bartender seems to be a very nice lady. She’s a friend of the friend we were there to meet. She talked about how she had signed up for a bell-ringing shift for the Salvation Army. We even had a few beers together later in the night, where she apologized a second and third time about the faucet. I cannot help but wonder if she apologized because she realized the need for water conservation or if her reason revolved around the social pressure of my pointing it out.

Just one state over from South Carolina, where this runaway faucet event occurred sits Atlanta. Lake Lanier is it’s main water source. Just one year ago Lake Lanier was so low from drought, mis-management and overuse that Atlanta measured it’s quickly dwindling available water supply in terms of weeks and officials declared an emergency.

Only when the faucets run dry will people realize that there is no more water. We’ve got the technology at our fingertips, literally, so that we don’t have to lug water from wells anymore. But this technology has contributed to our mindlessness.

I’m not perfect; I’m here to educate and bring awareness. Guess what? Everyone is from a place that has to conserve water.