A boyfriend

The other day I remembered how in junior high, when boys and girls were “going out,” the boy would stand behind the girl in the hallway, bodies pressed together, facing out, holding hands in front. Just standing there, signalling their coupleness. Then I realized that I had a boyfriend along those lines. We stood like that. But I couldn’t remember one other detail about him.

Maybe he was tall?

Talking to me

An old woman at the grocery store was beaming at my toddler riding in the cart — a normal occurrence. He’s super cute. Then she looks at me: “Thanks for you,” she smiles. Because of Mother’s Day the day before? I just thanked her back and headed for the crackers.

Later that evening, I went for a walk down SE 7th, and decided to cross just south of Stark. No cars were coming, but I trotted across quickly because it’s a bit of a blind curve. I’d seen a man regarding his backpack curiously on the side of the street I’d just come from, and he yelled at me, “No need to hurry!” A nothing, just something to yell.

I’d just come from a networking event where a woman didn’t seem to be able to make small talk, and I’d wondered why she’d come. It’s okay not to talk, but what was her decision making process?

“I’ll just go”?