Everyone Wants A Hug...Right?

The other day I ran into someone I've met a handful of times. She is someone whose name I actually remember but I know her in only the strictest professional sense. We are polite. Cordial, even. But we are not chummy.

So it makes perfect sense that the following took place.

We say hello to each other.

And then she extends her arm.

Which I naturally take to mean she wants to hug me. I mean, sure I think it's weird. After all, we're polite. Cordial, even. But definitely not chummy. Certainly not huggers. Then I think, maybe she's resolved to give more hugs this year. Perhaps it was one of her 2017 New Year's Resolutions and time is running out to meet that goal...2018 will soon be here.  Not wanting to be the one who stands in the way of her fulfilling her New Year's Resolutions,




I'm getting closer. It's almost time for our hug. And then I see her face.

And so it occurs to me...

She does not want to hug you! Abort! Abort! Do. Not. Hug. Her. Fall on the floor. Pee your pants. Anything but hug her.

I stand up straight, clear my throat, straighten my sweater and follow her gaze to the door we are standing in front of.

That door has been there the whole time. I bet you guys didn't even see it. Don't feel bad. I didn't see it either. But this woman, who I know in a strictly professional sense, did see it and was extending her arm to open the door to the stairwell. She was not trying to give me a hug because of course she wasn't.

I followed her up the stairs and into, coincidently the same store where I stayed very far away from her.

I spent the next twenty minutes browsing the store, knitting my brows together, giving the appearance that I was giving thoughtful consideration to what I was looking at. But really, I was trying to telepathically Jedi mind trick her into forgetting what happened.

I don't think it worked, and I'm pretty sure that's the last time she'll approach me or even meet my gaze.


Popular posts from this blog

When I Was Your Age...


Holy Shit Balls