[Since I am still mentally unable to rub two sentences together for a nickel right now, I am reposting this at the request of a buddy. He just had the almost identical thing happen to him today…hope it gives you a laugh.]
Feeling extra lethargic today after getting my blood taken this morning I decided I needed to do something. While I try to make it to the gym most days, I was not in the mood to watch 20-somethings who should be at a job somewhere admiring themselves in the mirror.
When I am in a pissy mood such as today it is simply not the place for me. I figure my body has incurred enough damage without my uttering some sarcastic remark and getting pounded by a meathead a good one today.
Instead, I figure it is time for a leisurely Walmart walk. Lately, I have been in and out in a hurry and seem to be letting the staff down by denying them my presence. Armed with my new custom basket and feeling special I make my way out to the Jeep.
Now, I have had some inane, inbred sense all my life when something is about to go wrong. You can call it ESP, after effects from prior alien probes or just intuition.
Whatever it is….it spoke to me sitting in the truck.
“Don’t go. Wait until later or you will be sorry.”
Being that it is a very short drive I just chalk it up to some type of blood imbalance from the insane amount they withdrew this morning. Always comforting when a phlebotomist tells you they can’t remember the last time they extracted this amount. It is going to 3 hospitals, I try to explain, as he jams the needle into my arm while giving me that, “I was just making a statement and don’t care what your reason is” look. The amount is truly insignificant and less than giving blood but I was just convincing myself everything would be OK.
I made it to the store just fine and parked. I even got a friendly hello from the cart guy and an enthusiastic “Welcome back!” from the greeter.
“You see, worried for nothing,” I tell myself.
Then it happened.
The hot flash of panic and instant knot in my stomach.
A person I have not seen in some time, that I particularly do not care for but for whatever reason loves me, is directly in sight 15 feet away. I have expertly avoided this person for years even being in the same place and managing to escape unscathed.
This time though there was eye contact. I was frozen like in a bad dream with absolute terror. To make matters worse, attribute this to excessive prescription drug intake and the graveness of the situation, I forget his name. Ignoring him or acting like I didn’t see him was no longer an option.
Perfect.
This is turning out to be the perfect storm. It’s not like I am in a line at McDonald’s where I can get my Happy Meal (I like the toys) and exchange pleasantries and be on my way. Worse yet I have just walked into a mega-mart and have an empty basket thereby clearly showing I have just arrived. Making matters worse his cart only has two items in it.
When two people encounter one another that really do not know each other well enough to have anywhere near an intelligent conversation, a very special type of awkwardness occurs. This is made even worse when you do not particularly care for that person but to them it is like they ran into Tom Cruise.
I put on the fake smile and make my way in that direction in slow motion. All sounds become muted and I can hear my heart beating in my ears.
Come on stupid body, you screw me on a daily basis…where is a seizure when I need one? I consider a fall but instantly figure I would break my hip and he would be in the ambulance and ER with me all day making sure I am OK.
The problem with these situations is that in his excitement he doesn’t consider we have about two things in common we can talk about.
After the inevitable hand shake/man hug we exchange pleasantries.
“Hey Rob! Great to see you!”
“Heeeeey Buddy.” As if my luck today would grant me the one in a million chance that is actually his name. At least we have seen each other enough times that I avoid the horrible, “You don’t remember me do you?” Thank goodness for small miracles.
“I heard you were sick. I even stopped by your old place but they said you had moved.” Damn straight I did and this was a contributing factor jackass (I think while smiling). I despise “pop-ins” by anyone.
Sensing this could quickly go very bad when asked where I live now I launch into having to move and the nursing home. This is a true statement which was deftly twisted into asking him how he was doing. While he droned on and all I heard was the teacher from Charlie Brown, I tried to come up with some sort of exit strategy.
I felt like George Costanza on that Seinfeld episode where he is trying to get out of dinner with Elaine’s Dad and Jerry bails. For once in my life, I had nothing.
“Whaaaaa, whaaaa, whaaaa, whawanaawhaaawa.”
Figuring a question would most likely occur at the end of his dissertation, I decide to pay attention and stop nodding my head before agreeing to something I didn’t mean to.
He throws a curveball at me.
“You remember old so and so don’t you?
A. I am sure I probably do but I missed what you said prior and the name just snapping back into conscious thought. Smartly, I ask how “they” are doing avoiding all gender reference.
B. I realize we now have three things in common and fear there may be more.
I listen this time to a story about a guy I do remember but know even less than this guy. I wonder to myself if that poor bastard will be living this same moment in a month being asked if he remembers me.
Eventually, the conversation suddenly has reached a point of where there is nothing else to say. This is the part that is even worse than the beginning.
I break the awkward silence with the old, “I’m sure you must be busy so I better let you go.”
Obviously me with a pair of ripped shorts, flip flops and a Sesame Street t-shirt holding a personalized Walmart basket isn’t off to any high-powered board meeting.
After a “we have to get together soon” and somehow avoiding giving my phone number out we part ways.
Right then, I just want to make a beeline to the parking lot and get out of there. I decide to get my few things I was going to get satisfied this was over.
A grocery store is not the place to have this encounter because like an agent from “The Matrix” he regenerates around every second aisle. As if the first encounter wasn’t uncomfortable enough.
“We have to stop meeting like this.” I joke saying the very first thing to come to mind no matter how dumb. It just came out.
After faking a phone call the next time I am spent. It does not help when I get ten feet away in the middle of my “conversation” and the phone rings.
“Damn dropped calls,” I mutter.
Of course, the person calling is also someone I have no desire to talk to so I press end to stop the ringing and feign a “Hello?”
Knowing God is rolling on the floor laughing at me and will repeat this situation just for amusement I go around the corner and put all my stuff on one shelf and leave.
Two lessons were gleaned from the experience.
One, listen to my inner voice when it warns me of impending doom.
Two, entering Walmart with your customized basket is not as cool as walking out with it empty.