As I left the grocery store in my car, I got into one of those muddled exchanges with a pedestrian, in which you slow and urge them to cross in front of you just as they’re beckoning you to pass. You’ve probably experienced something similar: two human beings attempting to be courteous and respectful, but overlapping each other’s hand gestures.

Often, someone realizes what’s happening first, grows still, then waits pointedly.

The other guy had a beard.

He looked like he’d had a rough day.

I had this strange compulsion to ask if he was alright, what had happened, and if he knew of anywhere I could buy some goddamned eggs, but instead the moment passed unremarked, as so many occasions in life do.

Not the most exciting/memorable story, I’ll grant you.

And I didn’t find any eggs, either.

I miss having scrambled eggs in the morning.