thrift store confidant

I walked down the shoe aisle swiftly, in search of a decent pair running shoes, avoiding the throng of fellow discount shoppers. Saturdays are bustling at the thrift store – half off! Midway from the loafers to the boots I pass a familiar voice.

But it wasn’t someone talking in the store; it was a recorded voice I recognized. It was coming from someone’s phone, as if they were on speaker perhaps. It gave me pause as I passed, trying to place the person’s voice. Did I recognize who the fellow shopper was speaking to?

As I neared the men’s athletic footwear, I think I had a name in mind. So… I doubled back. I could make my stalking innocent enough, right? I walked back down the aisle, from where I had come. The voice got louder and louder; I wasn’t quite sure which person had the phone.

And as I passed by its source, I was certain this time of the speaker’s identity. And I had found the owner of the phone too: an older woman with a walker. Somewhere on her person, unclear where, she had tucked away her phone. And her podcast.

For it wasn’t a phone call, but an audio program of some sort. The mystery voice? Heather Cox Richardson. I could spot that cadence anywhere!

I got close to the woman and leaned in. “Is that Heather Cox Richardson?” I asked.

The woman’s mouth curled devilishly and she nodded slowly. She said to me, “Isn’t she wonderful?” I nodded slowly back. “We all gotta stick together right now,” she continued. Almost interrupting herself, she remembered, “Say, are you going to the meetup this weekend?”

We exchanged names under our breath there in the busy store, among the marked down secondhand clothing. It was like speaking in code outside the speakeasy, bemoaning the state of the world and the rot in some people’s hearts.

There’s something oddly magical about serendipitously discovering a kindred spirit out in the wild. My intersection with Vickie (or does she spell it “Vicky”? I’ll never know) was very brief, but profound.

I’ll see you at the meetup, Vicky.

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