It took me a few seconds after passing to realize her skewed eyes were looking at me.
“Hey, do I know you?”
I was returning from a work outing and had a tennis racquet sticking out of the top of my bag. No one wanted to play tennis at the outing. It was a full day of events. I spent part of it bouncing a ball up and down on the walk to the courts where I practiced a serve by myself that I had never practiced before. I barely made anything work. I’m glad it was just me. A few people passed, and I tried to make it look OK. I’m concerned with appearances. Outsiders should believe that this is what I do.
“Yeah!” she said.
It was a guy and a girl who came out of some place that was likely shitty and on their way to screw. She had me convinced: she wasn’t ready.
“She remembers you from when I took that set from you.”
Look at him.
“She remembers me from when you took that set from me?”
Look at her.
“Yeah…I know you…I…was probably drunk though (laugh).”
I’ve been drunk a lot, and forgotten a lot. I’ve never met this girl in my life.
“She remembers you from when I took that third set from you.”
Look at him (Jesus Christ this guy is annoying).
“She remembers me from when you took that third set from me?”
Look at her.
“Well it’s good to see you again.” I’m clearly seeing her for the first time. I gave her a hug because she seems sweet and in need of real affection that she will not receive in the act of intercourse that she’s probably having as I type this.
“OK, that’s about enough of that,” was the response inspired by a hug.
I thought so too, without a fight.