name and address withheld

funny who you'll run into at the mall these days. a long-lost pal from high school. a dear ol' friend from summer camp. or maybe even your old man. just perched there on a bench, biding his time while his lady friend sweats out a mani-pedi in a nearby nail salon. so there we were. two strangers with so much in common. exchanging pleasantries. catching up on old times. sizing one another up. so casual that it was almost surreal. as if it was all just water under the bridge. and yet, as the script gradually unfolded, an almost mirror-like effect began to take hold. for this was me. or this would soon be me. the eyes. the nose. the disappearing hairline. the shifty glances to and fro. would the progeny spot the resemblance? would the progeny wonder aloud the identity of this long lost soul? no, the children barely recognized the old man. and the old man barely recognized the children. one of the tots made a beeline for the toy department, whirling and twirling along the way, oblivious to the history she had left behind. the other stood by loyally, intrigued by the familial connection to this ghost-like figure. and then, just as suddenly as the rapprochement had begun, it was over. the sun was about to set. the pleasantries had been exchanged. the time had come to move on.