So there I was, hair unbrushed and messy (loosely held together with a clip) and not a scrap of makeup to be seen. I was dressed in whatever was nearest, with glasses plonked on my head, when I turned around and saw her.
You know, Susan.
The one in the photograph from my last post. The girl who used to be my best friend during infant and junior school. The girl I haven't seen in twenty eight years.
I wished I had bothered before I stepped outside the house, as I eyed her immaculate clothes, hair and makeup.
Why, oh why, do I never bump into people I haven't seen for twenty eight years when I'm looking drop dead gorgeous?!
I hid behind Mark and Tommy.
"What are you doing?" quizzed Mark.
I gave him one of my looks, the one where I'm amazed he can't read my mind and perfectly understand the situation and behave in the appropriate manner.
I then hurried in the supermarket, head down, to avoid any embarrassing conversations.
What would I have said to her anyway? Maybe, "Hey I don't usually look this rubbish. And I'm fully aware there's a lot more of me than there used to be. Well, what have you been doing for the past twenty eight years?"
To which she might have responded, "Oh nothing much."
And that would have been the end of that conversation.
I guess I could have reminisced about the time I fell in her rose bush and was in agony for hours, whilst her mum plucked the thorns out my thighs. Or asked her if she really believed there was a pixie living in our shed (it was a knitted man I placed in a very high box and pretended he was a pixie).
Or she might have asked how I was and what I'd been up to, to which I would have limply replied, "Erm, I left school and got a job in publishing. Still work in publishing. And erm, I got married and had a kid."
Then, imagine if you will, she had smiled at these bombshells (with her perfectly painted lipstick), tossed her immaculate hair from her slim face and said, "Publishing, how interesting, I've actually had three best sellers published and with the proceeds have been able to buy a house in Los Angeles and a villa in Madrid, I split myself between the two countries. In between writing I raise money, for the charity I set up in my name, by climbing mountains and cycling through the desert. What's the charity for? Oh we raise money to save children with life threatening illnesses, whilst also providing medical research to find a cure for Cancer. What am I doing back here? Oh I'm visiting my parents, can't believe they still live here. Don't tell me you still live here?!"
"Of course not! We live at least twenty minutes drive away. We're only here for the cheap supermarket."
Yes, I thought, as I stuffed chicken kievs, bargain wine, and cleaning products on discount, into my trolley, I'm glad I pretended I hadn't seen Susan.
Although next time I visit the supermarket, I might make more of an effort with my appearance. You know, just in case I should bump into anyone else I haven't seen for twenty eight years.