Process of elimination. We were eating here.
We turned the corner. As I followed the hostess to our booth, I noticed her right away. She looked exactly the same as she had in high school. Sweet. Quiet. Pretty. She recognized me and we exchanged greetings. It was good to see her again.
She was with a man. I was with my mom.
Not that there's anything wrong with being with your mom. Quite the opposite actually.
But, you know, when you run into so and so from high school, you kind of want to be on the arm of a handsome, young doctor.
I swallowed my pride and we exchanged small talk. Her family is fine. Work is good. Life is busy.
We parted ways and returned to our respective 'dates.'
Later, she was ahead of us in line to pay the bill (diner-style).
We approached the check-out counter and the cashier asked, "How was everything?"
To which My Acquaintance replied day-dreamily, "It was wonderful, thank you."
"Wonderful?" I scoffed (in my head).
That seems like an odd way to describe your experience at [insert name of restaurant here].
Words like, "Okay." and "Fine." seemed more fitting.
It wasn't until years later that I would understand her response.
It was wonderful because she was in love.
I didn't understand until years later, when I met Tim and started speaking the same language.
Linking up with Casey