The other night I was walking on Warren Street, trying to decide where to eat. A woman came out of a building as I passed.
"Hi," she said. I turned around, already ten feet past her.
"It's Jane," she said, except she used her real name. I had seen her around town many times but we had never spoken. My first memory of her is from a community meeting, in which I made a suggestion that she didn't like. She rolled her eyes and screwed up her face as if I had farted. But maybe now she was being nice. I walked toward her and extended my hand.
"We actually haven't met," I said, "I'm Matt."
"Oh. You're not who I thought you were," she said. "Never mind."
She turned and walked away.
