Surprised by Old Friends
The Queen and I went to Clinton on Saturday to look around since my office is going virtual. We miss Clinton. When this opportunity came about, it only made sense since the cost of housing, gas, etc is substantially lower there than it is in Plainfield.
We cruised down in the viniman and by the time we arrived, everyone was whining about starvation. I don't really think they were THAT hungry, but they wanted to have some Monical's Pizza.
We arrived, sat down and after a few minutes another couple came in with a mother and sat down at the table not far from me. The man looked familiar.
After about 20 minutes, he said hello and I responded in kind. This quickly became one of those awkward points in a conversation where you think you know the other person but don't really know the name. So, I am the first to make the awkward situation worse and try to stall for time while I tried to figure out who he was. I asked him if he knew who I was.
In the back of my mind, I knew he couldn't put my name to my face, but it was fun watching him squirm. Meanwhile I am biding my time running through the yearbook in my head trying to figure out who he was. Finally, I asked him what year he graduated, and he replied with "I think you were a year ahead of me." Well, that didn't go as I hoped. Clever...this man was clever. He played his hand the same way I would have.
Finally, after going through the torment of trying to kick in brain cells that have long remained dormant, one of us gives in and says our name. I really can't remember who went first, but after all was said and done, it was an old friend. We sat there and talked and caught up very briefly while the wives talked amongst themselves. They got along famously since my wife is a scrapbooker and his wife is a scrapbook supplier.
As soon as I heard that, I could tell they would get along famously and we would be much poorer because of it.
This brings me to my point (as I almost always have one). In a small town, you can go home after 23 years of being away, and you are still home. That sense of community is unique and cannot be duplicated. One more reason...to move...which appears to be happening.
We cruised down in the viniman and by the time we arrived, everyone was whining about starvation. I don't really think they were THAT hungry, but they wanted to have some Monical's Pizza.
We arrived, sat down and after a few minutes another couple came in with a mother and sat down at the table not far from me. The man looked familiar.
After about 20 minutes, he said hello and I responded in kind. This quickly became one of those awkward points in a conversation where you think you know the other person but don't really know the name. So, I am the first to make the awkward situation worse and try to stall for time while I tried to figure out who he was. I asked him if he knew who I was.
In the back of my mind, I knew he couldn't put my name to my face, but it was fun watching him squirm. Meanwhile I am biding my time running through the yearbook in my head trying to figure out who he was. Finally, I asked him what year he graduated, and he replied with "I think you were a year ahead of me." Well, that didn't go as I hoped. Clever...this man was clever. He played his hand the same way I would have.
Finally, after going through the torment of trying to kick in brain cells that have long remained dormant, one of us gives in and says our name. I really can't remember who went first, but after all was said and done, it was an old friend. We sat there and talked and caught up very briefly while the wives talked amongst themselves. They got along famously since my wife is a scrapbooker and his wife is a scrapbook supplier.
As soon as I heard that, I could tell they would get along famously and we would be much poorer because of it.
This brings me to my point (as I almost always have one). In a small town, you can go home after 23 years of being away, and you are still home. That sense of community is unique and cannot be duplicated. One more reason...to move...which appears to be happening.
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