And then we were walking down the sidewalk, on another one of the rare and fabulous nights out in the city. I must have been gawking at something, like my cute shoes, the ones reserved just for the concrete, because at home I trip on the gravel or a heel sinks in the mud, or I may have been mesmerized by all the super tall buildings, which I don’t see much anymore since we moved out “to the woods”.
There was another couple walking towards us and I guess I was taking up more than my fair share of the sidewalk, as I have yet to master the art of looking at my surroundings AND walking in a straight line.
So Mike gently and politely informed me, “Watch out! You’re going to run into them.”
“Oh, sorry!”
And I smiled as they passed (’cause I’m nice like that) but they did not smile, at all, definitely no smiling.
“Wow, they looked pretty grumpy”
“Well, you almost ran into them”
“I said sorry. Maybe they need to “run into” each other more and they wouldn’t be so grumpy”
“Maybe that’s the kind of thing you don’t say quite so loud”
“Oh. Oops.”
(because by the wide-eyed sideways look the woman shot at me, she totally heard that).
“You really don’t question why we don’t get out more, right?”
“No, guess not….”
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