Aphorisms

Aphoristic observations:

People who seem arrogant may just be shy.
People who seem aloof may just be hiding their slow wit.
People who write aphorisms are overcompensating.

The other day I was walking with Coco on my shoulders (again – my spine has been compacted by at least 3/8ths of an inch by now) and we passed a mother of a friend of his, a school friend. Now, it was school time and Coco wasn’t at school so a question about his well-being, I think, was in order.
But no, she looked ahead and ignored us completely. She’s been “aloof” before, but in other contexts and I’ve always figured it was because we don’t speak Spanish with Coco even though he’s in the Spanish class and she speaks Spanish with her kid.
That day, though, I was able to see her face better and she had a bit of nervousness about her and I realized that my previous evaluation may have been wrong.
This reminded me of times I was at a pool when I still took out my contacts to go swimming rather than wear goggles and later got confronted by friends who were at the pool, claiming I ignored them. I never ignored anyone I recognized, I swear. But everyone turns into a flesh-colored blur at the pool and I put on a vaguely friendly, yet blank, smile when I can’t see anything. So there.
Then I thought of another mom at the school who, well, let’s face it, she’s kind of pretty so she knows people do things for her, and she covers for everything with a quick, sprite-like laugh, and she’s always preoccupied with her kids, so her reluctance to engage in conversation always seemed like a bit of aloofness. Obviously I’m not even in the same league as the average bus-driver, so I figure it’s justified arrogance on her part an leave it at that. Then one day I did have a conversation with her, and, oops, I realized that the nearsightedness she’s adjusting for is intellectual.
But I’m just projecting now because I’m on a caffeine jolt and sugar high. Give me a half-hour and I’ll be assured it’s all because they hate me. Who wouldn’t?