a(n approxiamte) conversation at Whole Foods

yesterday, as par the course these past six weeks, i found myself rushing about with approximately 17% less time than comfortable. i needed groceries, and was somewhere between the nutriitonal yeast and tempeh when a familiar voice stopped me:

"what? you didn't recognize me."

(i look up from
my preoccupation)

"i didn't even see you."

(i reach to hug him)

"no, don't."

(i don't)

"i've been sick."

(i whisper)

"swine flu?"

(he smiles)

"i thought it was that at first."

(he pulls up his shirt)

"look."

(dozens of small scabs
cover his torso)

"measles?"

(i step back)

"close. chicken pox."

"you never had them?"

(enter doubt)

"i did. they came back."

(i step back)

"i'm not contagious anymore."

(i step forward)

"my guy says i have to get my system alkaline."

(i agree)

"alkaline is the way to go."

"where you been?"

"work and school."

(answer by rote)

"you still hanging out with that girl?"

(i smile)

"yeah."

(he smiles)

"get out."

"we're getting married."

(he laughs)

"get out. you turned her?"

(i laugh)

"that's the second case i've heard of recently..."

[lapse]

before we part ways, we discus Jean Renoir:


and he shows me the poster he bought for his daughter:


it is a pleasant coincidence, and i am able to extricate myself from his prolific, formidable powers of bavarder without making myself late. i leave by promising that i will call him next week, and look forward to a more substantial reunion.