No, this is not a political post. I don’t do those. This is a story that takes place at a park where several friends and our children were gathered. One of my dear friends has an odd habit of accidentally calling me Becky when we’re in public, so, to get back at her, I’ll call her by the wrong name too.
As she was leaving, she waved and called, “Bye, Becky!”
I waved back: “See you later, Hillary.”
Only she didn’t look at me. Or wave to me. Or even smile at me.
Strange, I thought. About as strange as the looks our mutual friends gave me. Looks that said, “Don’t you know her name? I thought you guys were friends.”
Then I realized there was an actual Becky at the park, not just me, the fake one. That’s who my friend was waving goodbye to, which come to think of it, makes more sense since she’d already said her fond farewell to me.
Oh well. I just went back to eating. So I looked like an idiot. That tends to happen when I got out in public.