Wednesday, April 07, 2010

He was just there . . . Looking at the Lamps

I was at the Target today, looking for those brown pellet things to put seeds in . . . I'm planning to torture my neighbor with morning glories. Lots and lots of morning glories. All over that chain link fence that she won't let me get rid of.

As it turns out, Target does not have brown pellet thingys for seeds, so I went to look at baby stuff for the hundreds of baby showers I have this spring. Out of the corner of my eye, I see someone familiar. I knew him in college. A good friend of my then boyfriend. Except . . . he was an old man. And it wasn't the gray hair. No. His face was OLD. Wrinkled eyes. Old man stance. Old. But a year older than me. So forty.

Now this person is from the same hometown . . . and now evidently the same current town . . . so I have run into him in various places. The gas station in our twenties. Outside a bar in our thirties. And, truthfully, he has never looked good. Something about that trip to Africa. And considering how much past we have in common, I should be much more chirpy and say "hello" and make small talk. But I never do. Then boyfriend and I did not end well. Old guy friend of then boyfriend and I ended less well, as friends who has to take sides often do.

So I always seize up and try to ignore him completely. Today I wandered the ladies underwear section of Target, quite leisurely, thinking that I would be safe there after the initial sighting. And then I had to go to the bathroom and had to walk past him because he had finished checking out. Locking my eyes forward, I ran into the volunteer brochures trying to avoid his gaze.

Funny thing is . . . knowing how much men remember things . . . he probably just thinks I'm a different crazy woman each time. So I'm taking all these steps to avoid awkwardness and he has no idea who I am. And yet, I will still go to great lengths to duck him wherever we meet in our fifties.