Clean up in Aisle Seven

"So I heard you're a writer now?"
The question itself was enough to make me flustered. But then there was the person who was asking it. Someone from my high school past, which is never good as high school me was very nerdy (I think maybe prerequisite to become writer). We knew each other through mutual friends, and there was some interest expressed back and forth which culminated in a brief and awkward encounter in a damp basement bedroom that featured dark paneling blanketed with pinup models.


But now there we were, fifteen years later. Grown ups in a supermarket, scouting the canned goods. Both married now, with three kids apiece (from what I can glean from facebook). He had one in tow.
I was not sure how to answer the question. Not at all.
"No," I said, regarding him with a look of confusion.  I'm not sure where he would have gotten that impression. Creeping Facebook much? But even my Facebook feed is full mainly of travel pictures and boring updates about dance recitals and play dates and flu shots. (Boring, I know.)"I wouldn't say that."

He appeared flustered, waves a hand dismissively. "I thought I heard that. I try to keep up on things..." he said, his voice faltering as his son (fivish?)dashed down the aisle and he trailed off after him.
"I  try to write," I qualified. "But I haven' exactly 'made it'. Yet,"
"No I'm sure you're writing is good," he says,  distracted as he chases after his son. "Anyways, take good care" And then he leaves, chasing said son. "Good to see you," I call after him.

Well that went well, I think to myself, handling my can of green beans. I think of things I could have said.
"I write grocery lists!" which would have been clever because of, well setting. Or "I still have my day job!"

Terrible timing too. Of course I had to have woken up this morning with an abscessed tooth (must go to dentist ASAP, only am terrified of dentist. Am dealing with problem in the meantime with expired Amoxicillin I found in cupboard, salt water rinses and Ibuprofen). My lower lip is swollen. I wasn't wearing any make up and I had hastily pulled my hair into a pony tail before heading out to the grocery store. It just goes to show: always be prepared.

Not my first awkward encounter in supermarket, I thought, recalling a conversation I'd had with an Iranian immigrant who was the mother of a friend of a friend. We talked, and she regaled me with the price of short ribs in broken English. When leaving, she drew me into a hug and told me she loved me. I didn't know what to say, so I said "I love you too," and kissed her on the cheek, which I felt quite strange about but I wasn't sure what the protocol was in that situation.
Anyways, supermarket conversations are not my strong suit.