Checking out the “chipper chicken” in the middle refrigerated case of Marianno’s, I heard someone calling from across the case . ” .. .enny, I haven’t seen you in years, how are you?“.
She was looking at me, gesticulating gleefully, as one tends to do upon a chance encounter with someone from their past. “Do you like your new house?”. She was talking to me.
I had absolutely no idea who she was.
I’ve lived a life where more people seem to know me than I them. It is what it is. I’ve learned to roll with it. I can have a conversation with a hard boiled egg.
“Yes. Love it, but, miss my friends and neighbors of so many years“.
“We miss you too.”
Pause. Smiles. Chicken choices.
“I don’t think I know you. I thought you were an old neighbor.”
“It happens” I said. “I’ve done it myself.”
Someone chuckled behind me: a kindred spirit who had likely been on either side of such a conversation herself; or, was it the butcher? We laughed, the two of us, strangers in the supermarket – and proceeded to chat for fifteen minutes. We set the world right, as women all over are wont to do whilst shopping for their evening’s supper. Has this ever happened to you?