Buckle up

Sometimes when I meet people amidst a lot of activity, I am sort of distracted and may not catch their names. If the interaction does not prove to be a favorable one, I don't give much concern to whether I properly filed any pertinent data. The faces may look vaguely familiar at a later date, and require no more than a pleasant smile of acknowledgement. One face in particular though, for some strange coincidence, seemed to constantly appear at the worst times. I could barely muster up a happy visage, let alone any conversation. I might hear a voice, but pretended to not think it was directed at me, so I could continue about my business of fretting over this and that.

One day recently, I sat down to rest for a few minutes. I noticed someone headed for the last vacant chair next to me, but was too tired to execute a proper look away and dodge maneuver.

"You don't recognize me, do you Andrea?"

"I'm sorry. I know we've met, but..."

"Let me reintroduce myself, as I am not surprised your memory is failing. I am Yermid Lifecrisis."

"Oh, I barely recognized you, your hair looks..."

"More gray?"

"Uh, and your outfit.."

"Doesn't fit quite right?"

"No, noooo, that wasn't at all what I was thinking. I just...um, is that a wine bottle sticking out of your purse?"

"Don't judge!"

"No, I was just wondering if it was any of those new kinds I like."

"Oh honey, wine and hair dye aren't going to help you make friends with this crisis."

"Well, then what do you suggest?"

"Laundry and housework. That ought to do it."

"Are you serious?"

"Serious, no. Hilarious? Yes." (Gets up to leave.)

"Wait! What's this you're handing me?"

"The only thing that might help. A seat belt!"

What a bitch! No chocolate for her.