"What I, like, dread is when people who know you in completely different ways end up in the same area. You have to develop this, like, combination You, on the spot." - Angela Chase, My So-Called Life
As if the food poisoning weren't enough, this weekend provided yet another reason to hate the mall.
Moonshadow and I were on a quest for a DVD. We had checked all the local used DVD stores, even the one way out on Airport Road by our town's only Baskin Robins. In a final, desperate attempt, we headed for the mall, where we learned that the DVD in question was also one that fye! didn't have. Thus, the gods required us to trek over to Suncoast in what we knew would be a fruitless effort. We went anyway.
Of all the six billion people on the planet, which two do you suppose my boyfriend and I ran into as we walked through the mall? Why, my mom and sister, of course. You know, my mom and sister who totally don't know I'm gay, much less that I have a boyfriend? Yeah, that mom and sister.
It all happened really fast. They were walking toward us. They saw me. I saw them. There was nowhere to run. I was trapped. We met each other and stopped walking. Moonshadow did the best thing he could've done: he kept walking and ducked inside Suncoast before anyone could get too good a look at him.
I was stuck talking to my mom and sister. My mom pointed out that Moonshadow was not the friend who had picked me up earlier. I had to explain that my other friend had ditched me and I ended up hanging out with Moonshadow. They seemed to buy this and we moved on to other topics of discussion, like the unbelievable price gouging that goes on at the mall, especially in regard to pants. I made a joke about how my sister was ineligible to shop at the mall since she doesn't have an eating disorder. Eventually, they got bored and moved on to another store and I caught up with Moonshadow inside Suncoast. And that's when I started freaking the fuck out.
It's a traumatic experience, that. I'm not the type of person to hyperventilate or throw up and I'm not the type of person to smoke cigarettes (anymore), so I had no way of calming my nerves. And even once I calmed down enough to start thinking clearly again, I couldn't stop thinking about how awkward it's going to be when I finally do come out to them and they (or at least my mom) realize that they've actually met my boyfriend before.
The two of us spent the rest of the afternoon doing second-by-second analysis of the encounter ("at least we weren't holding hands. That would've been sooo much worse.") and assuring each other that there's nothing to worry about. I even had to call Rachel for a third opinion (Rachel played the piano for me and convinced me that this was nothing to crawl into a hole and die over. Thanks, Rachel!). It was unsettling and uncomfortable, but it was nothing a gas station gyro and a Vodka and Sprite couldn't fix. Vodka makes everything better.
When I got home later that night (eight hours after the encounter), my mom grilled me on how I spent my day. I explained that we watched The Real World marathon on MTV, which was sort of true. I mean, we watched a little bit of The Real World before we found Felicity on WE (God, I can't believe I used to watch that show. Felicity was all, "My art thesis is on pinatas" which made no kind of sense until she elaborated that it was called 'Unexpected Discoveries,' "the surprises that fall out after life has knocked you around a little bit," at which point it only made enough sense to qualify as a plotline on The WB. Talk about a lazy metaphor. Whatever, Felicity).
It's a wake-up call, a reminder that the world is not all mine. I'd become complacent, which I can't afford to do right now. I need to lie low for awhile and tackle some TV Guide crosswords. It'll all be over in a month, but that still doesn't mean I have to go back to the mall. Ever.
Reading: On Writing Well Watching: Banzai. That is some funny shit. Listening to: Barenaked Ladies, whose upcoming CD will be titled "Everything to Everyone." Eating: Off-brand Cinnamon Toast Crunch. Surfing: TARflies, a fan community for The Amazing Race.
