My home office could feel stifling so every so often I would go work at Panera when I needed to be around humans. The closest Panera was on the edge of a mall, but I normally didn’t go into the mall because I wanted to keep an eye on my computer.
I don’t think I ever actually went into the mall over the dozens of times I’d been to the Panera’s, but I needed to get some help from a guy at the phone kiosk.
Just as I was entering the main part of the mall, my friend Sherri was walking by with her young daughter Kennedy. I chatted with the two of them and then Sherri asked me if I was allergic to strawberries.
Seemed like a strange question but I said, “No. Why do you ask?”
“Kennedy had just told me that Mr. Dave was allergic to strawberries,” Sherri shared with me.
I don’t know where Kennedy got the idea that I was allergic to strawberries. I’m not.
This was such a funny thing for her to say, but it was even funnier that the one time I actually went into the mall area that I would run into them. If I had left 20 seconds later I wouldn’t have run into them.