Until the moment when we said our first hello

I'm good with faces, and average with names. Lousy with context. So I have those "oh, crap" moments often enough to be wary of run-ins with people I recognize. Chances are I will have no idea how I know them.

That explains the dread that grips me just outside of the grocery store this afternoon. I have come to pick up some mid-afternoon treats for an office nearby. As I exit, a peppy twentysomething blonde in fashionable business attire flashes a big, familiar smile at me as she enters the store. The kind you'd expect to see when visiting an old friend or a dying aunt.

She asks how I am doing as she halts her pace near the cash registers. I falter and sputter to a stop to answer her, feeling slightly obliged to mirror her stance.

Who is this? Is she in the same field? Have we crossed paths while working? Does she work out of one of my referral source's offices?

As my bags begin to make their weight known to my loosely hanging arms she brings up how hot the weather has been and the fact that she barely has gotten out and tanned at the lake. I nod and agree. It has been freaking hot lately. But am I supposed to know already that she usually frequents the water destinations in the area? Was this a continuation of a conversation?

I say that my family has also retreated from the wet recreational activities in which we often engage during the summer. But we have all been busy. Her next addition to this bizzare encounter is not a question about my family. I think perhaps my original estimate of her age was incorrect, and she is one of my sister's friends from high school.

Instead, she waves daintily and says to take care. Before I can echo the sentiment, my curosity takes over.

"I'm sorry. How do I know you?"

"You don't. I just thought you were cute, so I wanted to talk to you."

Ballsy. Don't see a lot of that around here.

Feels strange to be outawkwarded. I'm not used to the receiving end. Though mine usually don't usually involve people I consider cute. My recipients are fat guys with Hummers and snarky cashiers at the place where I buy milk.