The traffic to Chermside was surprisingly sparse after work. I was to have a quick dinner then take a little look around for clothes and whatnot. While walking up and down the crowed aisles of unabashed retail, I was astounded by the large number of passing faces that I recognised from some distant memory. Thrice I bumped into people I used to know, briefly conversing about various nothings and then going on our separate ways and there were many more that I spied from the corner of my eye, much too enthralled with the thrill of commerce to notice.
Perhaps it's just me, but whenever I'm out at a shopping centre or somewhere, at times I tend to dread the prospect of running into anyone I know, the awkwardness involved as these people enter your world that was previously occupied only with the task at hand. Countless considerations come to mind simultaneously, drawing on all previous experience, in regard to greetings, appropriate small talk and etiquette. At times when I'm either in a rush or not in the mood, I oftentimes attempt to steer clear of these confrontations, but more often then not, they are for various reasons, unavoidable.
While walking to the car ready for home, I witnessed a scene I thought quite humorous in a slightly piteous kind of way: two rather homely looking guys squabbling over which one of them a girl - quite a bit out of their league I would say - looked at first as she passed, her eyes perhaps unintentionally wandering. I wonder what outcome the two of them hoped to achieve should their dispute ever be resolved.
Brisbane trams to Chermside, 1967