Vermeil 2

About three weeks ago I was at the TJ's near work again, and Kelsey happened to ring me up. As I approached his cash register, I saw that he looked up and seemed to recognize me. He even smiled. Not a fake smile, the kind you flash to be polite, but like he was happy to see a familiar face.

The kindergartener in me took over. Remember kindergarten? If you liked someone and  you wanted them to be your friend (heck, in your mind you may already be friends), you just talked to them. There was no embarrassment or self-consciousness, or fear of "coming on too strong", or being misread as coming on to them. You felt, you did.

And the following discourse was a pure exchange as such. We almost simultaneously brought up Oxtails, the local produce market now defunct. I got to say the phrase I'd been rehearsing in my head, "Hey... there's life after Oxtails!" I expressed regret that the market was no longer. Kelsey was in accord.

That was the best scenario, however brief. Better than I could have imagined. No awkwardness. No lingering too long. Just two strangers having a common thread, no ulterior motives, no wants or needs from the other but an adulterated moment of innocent connection, goodwill, and a semblance of kinship.

These moments are few and far between.

And that was the last time I saw Kelsey. I've been back a couple of times since, and no sight of Kelsey. He may not work there anymore. Who knows?

Wherever he is, I hope he is well.