I love the club because I don't recognize anyone, really. I allow myself to create stories about the people I see (judging, always judging). Yesterday, as I sat stretching after my obviously strenous treadmill walking, I spied a face I recognized.
Occasionally, I create such a vivid imaginary life that I start to think I know the person in actual life.
As it turns out, this woman has actual knowledge of me (as only a gynecologist really can).
Then I ran away.
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