She reaches across and touches my arm, “How are you?” The words are dragged out and are paired with a sympathetic smile. Why is she touching my arm? She barely knows me. What does she know about me? What are people saying? “I’m okay thanks.” I tell her. “So, things are going well?” Why is she asking me this? “Yeah, things are good, thank you.” Liar.
“You remember, [her daughter] from high school?” I vaguely recall her, she was a couple of years ahead of me and we never spoke. I nod my head. “Well she just got married! I’ll show you some photos!” Why does she think I want to see her photos? I look at the photos and tell her they are lovely.
“For years [her daughter] was single and then all of a sudden this boy showed up and they fell in love.”
Is she hinting at something? I want to tell her that I am fine being single and that I haven’t always been alone. “Oh how sweet.” I reply.
She trails off about how her daughter had known the guy for a while before they dated and I do that thing I do where I stop talking. I look elsewhere and escape from the conversation.