I called about a car in the paper and several things occured but one over-all prevailing emotion was left with me after I found out who the person ont he other end of the phone was. The brief story follows:

I call the number and speak with a man - a normal man, with a normal voice and if you would have asked me his profession I might have guessed he was a graphic designer. But the man isn't the important part of this story, and he didn't know anything about the car. His wife was selling the car, and so she was put on the phone. She too sounded like a normal woman, with a normal voice and she could have either been a stay-at-home mother, or maybe a high school math teacher. So after talking with this woman I agreed to meet and look at her car. I was assuming that her and her graphic designer husband were upgrading cars, they were getting confertable in their carreers and it was time to drive something a little nicer. I drove over there and rung the bell. The door opened and it was a Sarah- the girl I "dated" in 8th grade. (she is 1 year younger than me, even.) Odd in itself to run into her after 10 years, but the most perplexing and almost overwhelming thing was SHE was the "woman" I had pictured from the phone. Adult. She is an adult. AND fuck, what the hell... How did someone a year younger than me, from the same neighborhood as me grow up already? I will have to think about this for a while...