...but I've still got it.

As I walk from across campus to the library, I near some high school boys strolling along ahead of me. They glance around at the sound of my footsteps and wave. Not knowing what else to do in response to these strangers, I say, "Hello," and keep up my pace.

Shortly I find myself in that strangely dreadful position: Overtaking People I Don't Know. My choice is either to slow down or pass them from behind. I'm in a hurry and they aren't, so I choose the second option.

Am I hypersensitive or does the awkwardness intensify unbearably during that instant where my body meets and crosses the plane of the bodies of passed strangers?

Once ahead of them I force myself to shake off self-consciousness and keep walking naturally. The silence is palpable. Lost in my own thoughts, I nearly miss the tell-tale alert one boy softly whispers to the other:

"Married."

Immediately, all analysis of my own insecurity clears as sun breaks through wheedly clouds.

They've been checking old me out, yes. But even better, they've just paid reluctant homage to my favorite ball and chain.