I went to the Olive Tree Markets on Saturday. It’s in the grounds of The Junction Primary School, in Newcastle. It gave me a serious case of schoolyard envy – there was a huge veggie patch with a scarecrow and everything. The market stalls were pretty good too, though a little skewed to the baby bib spectrum. The Sprogs had been promised a small gift, so they settled their attention on the pet rock display. As they handed over their money I heard the stall-holder’s voice and thought, “My god, I know that woman”. I looked up and, sure enough, through the 20 years of added experience on her face – and a switch from red hair to blonde – since I last saw her, I recognised Jane, who was once a mate. I even have a photograph of her at my 21st birthday party. She’s obviously become quite the astute businesswoman since we last me, the pet rock in the picture was purchased for $3 in the lucky dip. It’s the size of your pinkie fingernail.
Jane didn’t recognise me and I hesitated, uncertain whether to say anything. Do you say hello to someone you haven’t seen or spoken to in 20 years? Or do you just let it go?
I let it go.
It seemed a bit pointless. Like when my first boyfriend cycled past me one day, said “Alana House” and kept pedalling. I mean, why bother?
Sure, if I’d made the effort we could have done the whole, “Oh, yes, Alana! So lovely to see you. What have you been up to? Sorry … excuse me while I serve these other customers …” That might have been nice. I suppose.
But I walked away.
What do you do when you spot someone from your past? Do you pretend not to see them? Do you say their name and just keep pedalling? Or do you hang around for a chat?
housegoeshome 
I had an experience like this at the gym (before I quit). A girl I went to school with but hadn’t seen for 20 years took the treadmill next to me. I said ” I think I went to school with you” which lead to a deep and interesting conversation. The stuff she’d gotten up to over the last two decades made fun listening.
Love Mumabulous
I know their faces but, invariably, I can’t remember there names so I just keep walking!
” …’Alana House’ and kept on pedalling…” That’s GOLD!
I reckon that means he liked you. You made a big and bold enough impression on him that he couldn’t allow your presence to go unacknowledged but he (being male and all) didn’t enter into an intricate inner dialogue about whether or not it would be appropriate/inapproariate/ eventful/cringeworthy/gratifying etc to strike up a conversation. No. He was riding a bike.
However, as I’m not male, nor a cyclist, I have to say that I would usually say hello (unless they were abhorrent at school). Why not? I’m not cycling anywhere…
I do intend to take up cycling though … opens a whole new can of worms …
Um Hi.
I wasn’t riding a bike, as I recall. I was running, and pushing one of those long, almost 4WD (but 3 wheeled) strollers along the foreshore, with a – let’s say two year old, in it (she just turned 4, so that’s a reasonable guess). It was my two older kids that were riding bikes. They would have been 5 and 7.
It wasn’t that I didn’t want to stop, it was just the logistics of slowing down the stroller, whilst simultaneously corralling two unsteady cycling kids so they didn’t go left off the edge of the foreshore, right onto the road, or even straight ahead into the stalls of kites or wind apparatus, or whatever they were.
By the time I’d sorted that out, you had kept walking with your hubby and kids, and the moment (awkward) had passed.
I’ve thought about it myself often enough. Thanks to FB and HGH, I expect we’ll both stop next time.