I ran into an old high school classmate at The Publix yesterday. I’m pretty sure I haven’t seen her since our graduation. I hate running into people at the grocery store. At the mall, fine. At a restaurant, I’ll take it. But grocery stores are the worst. Mainly it’s because they have aisles. Aisles are like the shopping version of the movie Groundhog Day. All you do is run into the same person over and over and over again.

You first run into someone in aisle three, exchange pleasantries and say farewell. Aisle five, you pick up a can of turnips, maybe some yams and, Hey, there she is again. All you can do is smile or say something dumb or pedestrian like, “Haven’t we met? Ha ha ha.” or “We gotta stop meeting like this. Chuckle chuckle.” Wouldn’t it be great if we could just blurt out something that would completely mess the other person up for the rest of the day? Strolling down the aisle, only to run into her again. She smiles. You smile. She opens her mouth to say something and you say, “No, no. Iridescent tumbleweeds smote the cardigan muffin top.” Then you turn your face forward again, wearing the same, warm smile and gently push your cart away.

I’m not good with conversations in a grocery store aisle. How long should I stand here and talk without it getting weird? How do you cram twenty years into a grocery aisle conversation? What if I got so engrossed in the conversation that when it was over, I realized I really didn’t feel like shopping any more and just walked out, leaving my full cart right in the center of the aisle? What would she do if I kicked her real hard in the shin and ran away? Would she try to find me or continue shopping or find her whole shopping experience ruined and just leave? What if I jumped in her cart and demanded that she wheel me around the store so I could stretch out my arms like DiCaprio and scream, “I’m the king of the world!!” over and over again until the police came. What if we have a normal conversation for five minutes, then, just as we say goodbye, I take a few items out of her cart and put them into mine and walk away as if it wasn’t an incredibly deranged thing to do?

A lot of what ifs. None of that happened. It was mostly, “What have you been up to? Married? No? Kids? No? Job? Life? Absolutely not.” Then we wound it down and said our goodbyes. She said she would see me at the high school reunion, which incidentally, is only a year away. 20 years. How depressing is that? Then she went her way and I went mine and I spent the rest of my shopping time hoping I didn’t run into her again because our conversation was exhausted and I didn’t want to spout some cliched line if we did encounter each other again. Fortunately, we avoided the repeat meet. I did see her at the checkout. She smiled and I waved and that was that.

By the time I had unloaded my groceries into my car, she was just exiting the store. For a brief moment, I thought of yelling out her name so she could watch me shove my empty cart with all my strength towards her vehicle then run away, leaving my car and groceries there in the parking lot. I imagined she would watch incredulously as I ran and ran, becoming a tiny, clinically insane dot on the horizon. But I didn’t do any of that. I just got into my car and left.