When Mrs. Pincus and I first got married, we were out shopping in a local mall. As we exited a store and were strolling in the common area, I saw a familiar face coming up on us. I pointed the fellow out to my wife and said, "See that guy? I went to high school with him." Mrs. P smiled and asked, "Are you going to say 'hello' to him?" I turned to her and, with furrowed brow, replied, "No! I never liked him in high school." We continued walking. My former classmate-in-question walked right by us and I didn't even glance in his direction. It was right then and there that I fully discovered my superpower.
I can ignore anyone.
With very little effort, I can pretend as though any person, at any given time, is totally invisible. This has included (but not limited to) family members, co-workers, salespeople, solicitors, homeless, those people — toting a clipboard or iPad — who stop you on the street for "a moment of your time" and strangers in the car next to me trying to get my attention. I can look right at someone and at the same time look right through them as though they weren't even there.
Just a few hours ago, I went to the supermarket. I parked, got out of my car and started towards the store, when I received an alert on my phone. I stopped and fished around in my pocket for my phone. I extracted the phone from my pocket and saw it was just a notification that someone "liked" a recent post of mine on Instagram. I put the phone back in my pocket and continued into the store. Inside, I grabbed a shopping cart and reached for the shopping list I had compiled before I left the house.
It wasn't in the pocket I swore I had put it in. It wasn't in any of my pockets. I checked them all and I checked them all again. Dammit! It must have fallen out when I grabbed my phone. I pushed the shopping cart I had selected over to one side and began to retrace my steps to find my shopping list. This was very important, because without that list, I couldn't remember a single item I came for. That is why I made a list.
I turned, making my way to the front doors. Right then, in walked my sister-in-law and my niece — right through the door that would be my exit. My sister-in-law has been the bane of my family's existence since she began dating my brother-in-law over twenty years ago. By this point, I should be calling her my ex-sister-in-law, except my brother-in-law is too goddamn lazy to divorce her. They have been separated for years. My brother-in-law has been living on my in-law's den sofa for the past four years. He moved into their house right around the time we were made aware of COVID-19 and a pending pandemic. My brother-in-law quarantined at his parent's house and never left. His estranged wife... well, I don't know where she was living, and frankly, I don't care. All I know is: I haven't seen her in almost four years and here she was — going shopping at the same time and place that I chose.
When my brother-in-law and sister-in-law were married and cohabitating, I could very easily sit at the same dining room table at my in-law's house and not speak a word to her. I don't believe I have spoken a word or even acknowledged her presence in a dozen or so years. That's right... years.
And now, here she was, not five feet away from me. Suddenly, my superpower engaged. Just like Clark Kent whipping off his glasses and tearing the buttons off another dress shirt, my eyes focused somewhere out in the parking lot. I walked right past them and continued my quest for my misplaced shopping list.
Sure enough, I spotted the folded list right where I expected to find it. It was laying on the ground in the spot where I had earlier checked my phone. I picked the paper up and, with it firmly held in my fist, I went back into the store.
My first stop would be the produce section, where I would find bananas, the first item on my list. In my peripheral vision, I could see my sister-in-law lingering near the display of bananas. I decided to make bananas the last item on my list. Instead, and going against my regular shopping procedure, I made almond milk the next item I would get. I headed towards the dairy section at the rear of the store. My list would be filled backwards. When all of the items I needed sat safely in my cart, I grabbed that bunch of bananas and stealthily worked my way to self-checkout. I scanned, paid and was out of that store in just under twenty minutes.
And I never crossed paths with my sister-in-law again.
Able to leap tall buildings in a single bound? My ass! How about a useful power, Superman? You know you really don't want to talk to Batman ever again.
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