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.