When I was in Sainsburys I saw a friend I hadn’t seen in a while.
Now, she’s always been a bit unconventional and not in the “dye your hair odd colours and live off an artists wage” way. More in the “self-absorbed” way. (Coming from someone who writes a blog purely so she can bitch about how life is so cruel this is rich, I know. But this is my blog and I will write what I like!)
I was on my way in, pushchair loaded with children, when I saw her at the self check-out. I couldn’t decide whether to talk to her or not. One day I’ll go into the history behind my friendship, but this is not that day. Remind me though. It’s another self-indulgent ramble.
Anyway, turns out I didn’t need to make that call as she came over to say hi. I’m not entirely comfortable when this happens and I tend to get a bit hypersensitive. (Really?! I hear you cry. You?! Oversensitive?! I don’t bloody believe it! Well, it’s true.)
Her: hi! Is this number 1 or number 2?
She points to The Toddler
Me: Number 1. Number 2 is under there.
I point out the much hated baby under arrangement.
She smiles and says “I’ve gotta go, I’m on my way to a funeral.”
“Oh no!” I say, pulling my I’m so sorry face. I hate saying I’m so sorry. This comes from when I used to work at British Gas. Obviously, when you’re dealing with gas and electricity bills, you have people tell you that the owner of the property they are calling about has passed away. You are trained to say “I’m so sorry”. For this reason, I just cannot say it. It sounds so trite. I’m not very good with grief anyway. One day I will talk about my highly inappropriate reactions to emotions, but not today.
Back to the story.
In response to my poor response about the funeral, she goes “yeah, it’s a bit sad. Anyway, gotta go.” and dashes off.
A bit sad?
I need not have worried about my “Oh no!” *sympathetic face* if she was just going to be “a bit sad” about it!