During his regular evening walk, software executive Steve Crandall often nods a polite greeting to other iPod users he passes: He easily spots the distinctive white earbuds threaded from pocket to ears. But while quietly enjoying some chamber music one evening in August, Crandall's polite nodding protocol was rudely shattered. "She walked right up to me and got within my comfort field," Crandall stammered. "I was taken aback. She pulled out the earbuds on her iPod and indicated the jack with her eyes." Warily unplugging his own earbuds, Crandall gingerly plugged them into the woman's iPod, and was greeted by a rush of techno. "We listened for about 30 seconds," Crandall said. "No words were exchanged. We nodded and walked off." The following evening, Crandall saw the woman again. This time, she was sharing her iPod with another iPod regular Crandall had spotted on his walks. Within a couple of days, Crandall had performed the iPod sharing ritual with all the other four or five regulars he sees on his walks. Since August, they've listened to each other's music dozens of times. "It's very strange," he said. "It's almost like you're being a DJ for the other person.... It's very gratifying if you see someone dancing around to the music you're listening to. It's a great feeling to see other people enjoying your music, and my tastes are fairly bizarre." Crandall, the 51-year-old CTO of Omenti Research, lives in Basking Ridge, New Jersey, a "nice, middle-class small town." He is into indigenous music from northern Europe, like the tribal folk music of the Sami. But he's been turned on to techno and other unfamiliar types of music he's heard on his acquaintances' iPods, especially the one owned by the 30ish woman. Read the rest of this great story over at Wired.