The other day I thought I saw someone I knew, but it turns out the ruddy, slouchy little person was a total stranger. It’s only been a few months since I saw the optometrist, but I think she got the prescription wrong. That, and I need to look up from my monitor more often.
Four days ago I was on the C train. I sensed, as one can often sense, eyes upon me. I looked up and found a tall, youngish man — 25-28 — in a grayish cap staring at me intently. Caught, he smiled and then looked away. A few minutes later I looked up again, and caught him again. Same reaction. “What is this, a cologne commercial?” I thought to myself, grinning at the absurdity of it all.
This continued all the way to 14th Street, at which point the smiling bloke made a move to leave. Leaning in close to my ear, he said, “You have a little toothpaste on your lower lip,” before handing me his card. He smiled again and left the train.
I don’t have a compact, so I couldn’t check to see the offending white spot, though I did lick my lip. When I got to work, I found no sign of toothpaste.