Loitering in the hallway of my son’s school awaiting his parent-teacher conference, I completely forgot that the woman introducing herself and shaking my hand was an alcoholic. I forgot that she had visited me in the office a decade prior for a consultation. I forgot all of it.
What I remembered is that we had gone to high school together. We had grown up in the same city, in the same neighborhood, on the same block. We were never compatible socially. She was gregarious and popular, and I quiet and introspective. We may have nodded familiarly or said hello if we passed on the street, but nothing more. We were acquaintances by proximity.
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