A Mall Encounter Poem by D.N. Rebb

We're at the mall
My wife and I
We're walking hand in hand
Like a pair of teenagers in love
She likes shopping for clothes
Actually, she likes looking at clothes
As she rarely ever buys anything
If there's ever a need for a definition of boredom
This would be it
So I venture off
Find anything other than woman's clothes
And leave her to her own joy
In the electronic department
Is a bin full of old DVDs
Random titles, all five bucks each
I go through them
Have seen most of them
Kind of lost in my own thoughts
I look up
Two aisles over
Oh shoot, that can't be her
She hasn't seen me yet
I screwed her once
Years ago, actually decades ago now
And I mean I just screwed her once
Only once
No romance
I really need to get out of here
How does one sneak out
She looks up
She's looking my way
Maybe she won't recognize me
We make eye contact
Shoot, she smiles
Please don't come over
She's comin' over
The years haven't been kind to her
How are you? She asks
Like we just saw each other last week
God, it's been so long, I respond
I'm well, married!
Not sure why I had to say that
No, actually I do know why I had to say that
I was, but divorced now, she replies
We had some good times, didn't we?
I'm trying to remain polite
I mean, we had one time, I'm thinking
And it wasn't all that great
I just smile
Any kids?
Let's change the subject
Yes, Carson, he's nineteen now
Off in college
In Montreal
And you?
Four, all grown up now
Anyway, it was nice to see you, I lie
But I left my wife in the lady-wear department
If I leave her too long
She's going to max out the card
Please don't ask to meet her, I ponder
Well good luck then, she says
And attempts to give me a hug
Sheepishly, I half-hug her back
Hoping not to get caught in this innocent situation
Then she kind of gives my behind a squeeze
And winks at me
Says nothing
And walks away
Puck, that was so weird