Moms and I decided to be fancy people today, so she took me out for Chik-Fil-A, a fast food restaurant where workers will come up to you to see if you want a refill or more sauce packs, where tables have flowers in small vases, and where they have to say "my pleasure" after you thank them.
This latter quality is actually a nuisance sometimes. I always forget that, so the guy who came to see if I needed a refill always said it, when I thanked him, and I only thanked him, because I didn't know what else to say. Thank you for the refill, I'm sorry that I made you do it? I already feel like a lousy person eating fast food and having someone come up to me to refill my styrofoam cup just makes me realize how often I don't go to nice places. Anyway, he seemed exasperated by the time he left, because of how often I said thank you just to combat my self-consciousness.
So I was on my guard for the next go around, and I could distinctly hear a girl going to all of the tables around us. As she came close, I could hear that she was just putting a some St. Patrick's Day decoration in the flowers, and she would ask politely if she could reach over and do it, and I prepared myself, even clearing out table a little so it wasn't messy or looked like we needed anything when she arrived.
Thing was, she didn't. She hit up all the tables around us, and I just thought that maybe Moms and I looked too intense for her to interrupt. We were standing when I saw who it was though. Her voice started to register. It was Tabitha.
Now Tabitha and I aren't good friends. I mean, we had a time in ninth grade literature, where we laughed about reading Great Expectations with British accents during pop corn, but that's about it. Afterwards, she got a nice haircut and started dressing gimmicky, and after that, we were at the same college, where I would run into her on the bus.
We knew the same people and even liked the same things, but we just never really understood one another, despite the fact that I crossed a busy four-lane road with her once and even though she drove me home before.
We just started to acknowledge that we're not friends. When we would run into one another on campus, it was because she was with someone and I was reading, not knowing that I should dodge.
Once I remember going on the bus after her, and despite the amount of free seats and her joke that she didn't want to sit with me, I sat right next to her, right on top of her purse.
I don't think it was a joke actually.
She was pretty mean after a while. I would see her on campus, and we'd make eye-contact, but then she'd turn away first and walk away, or she'd avoid me deliberately. I wasn't that interested in trying to talk to her. I actually didn't want to see her either. I was just a bigger person to play it off, I think.
But that was her. She was the girl going round to all the tables, asking if she could put a small St. Patty's Day decoration on there, and I was the one with a hat. Moms wanted to get a few to go orders for my dad, and I asked if I could go to the car to wait. Of course, any sign of laziness, and my mom needs you immediately, so I had to go along.
And of course, we almost ran into Tabitha. She had just reached over to place a shamrock into the table in front of us, and she nearly missed my mom as she turned around. I knew she knew who I was. Every table in the joint had a shamrock but ours, but I excused it, thinking that maybe you couldn't tell who I was with my hat.
I toyed with the idea of making her talk to me. A part of me wanted some satisfaction in making her do it, especially since she was--and I hate to admit to having satisfaction in this*--working in a fast food place. But then I figured not. I pulled down my hat over my eyes, until all I saw were her khakis, and I walked right past her.
*Up until that moment, Moms and I were talking about my move to New York, so I was feeling all big and bad.