I preface this by reminding you that I have a fantastic memory for faces and usually names. Please see: Familiar Faces for a refresher.
The other day while waiting for the bus (I take the bus to work still), I realized that what I thought was a dollar in my wallet was actually a five. This discovery required that when the bus arrived, I had to plead with the driver to let me on to make a general announcement that I needed change for a five, which in the world of bus riders is terribly embarrassing. This sort of thing only happens to tourists and teenagers.
This guy, who I had seen on this bus before, said that he thought he had the change, and he did, so I got it and paid the fare. On my way to sit down, it just so happened that the seat next to him was one of the only ones open. I sat down and we chatted. I noticed that his pant leg was tucked into his sock and so I asked him, “Do you bike part of the way to work also?”
He answered, “Yeah.”
“I could tell by your pant leg.” He, obviously mildly embarrassed, fumbled to pull his pant leg out of his sock. (There is never any need to be embarrassed in front of me, I have likely done several more embarrassing things– like ask for change for a five on a bus, when I ride that bus to work every morning).
Anyway, we exchanged names and wishes for good days. His name is Sloan.
Today, I was waiting for the bus home and Sloan passed me on his bike. We made eye contact and I smiled a smile of recognition, nothing more.
And he looked at me like I was crazy.
Curse this memory of mine!