Context is Everything

I've gotten into the routine of making the dogs' food on Sundays. I'm not sure why, probably because I can usually stay home all day, but it's become a routine. I had put off buying most of the ingredients until yesterday, so I spent a good hour shopping. First place I went, Stews, was crowded as hell. It always is on weekends, but since I ask the butcher for free off-cuts and scraps, the weekends tend to have good scraps, so I suck it up and deal.

So I'm walking through the store and I see this guy that I know I know. I just can't place where I know him from. There's a mutual spark of recognition, so I know it's not just me. We shake hands, do the usual "hi, how are you's", and move on. He's with his wife. Later on we see each other and he grabs my arm, commenting on how strong I must be. I flex and show off. Near the end of the Stews cattle drive (I hate the layout of their stores), near the sushi fridge, we see each other again. I still can't place where the hell I know him from and it's driving me nuts. I KNOW I should know him, dammit! I start a conversation about the sushi, then finally ask where we know each other from. He simply says, "the hospital".

Ok, great. I regularly work in 20 different hospitals. Can he be a little more specific!? I just smile, and say something like, "oh right".

We part ways and as I see he and his wife on another check-out line, it occurs to me...the next time I see my gynecologist, I should bring him eel sushi.

It's all about the context, folks.