I was at 7-11 this morning buying my Gatorade, which is what I do now instead of coffee when it’s hot. The woman in front of me (who I shall call “the bubbly woman” from here on out) spoke to the 7-11 worker as though they were thick as thieves. I would have assumed the bubbly woman was in there every morning and had established one of those “I kind of know you” relationships with the woman behind the counter, but the 7-11 worker registered no recognition on her face or in her attitude. The bubbly woman said hello as though she was greeting an old friend and put her diet Mountain Dew on the counter. The 7-11 worker lazily swiped the bottle over the scanner.

“So … how’s your Monday going?” the bubbly woman asked.

“Oh … Monday …” the 7-11 worker said with a blank face.

The bubbly woman nodded knowingly. “Mondays, huh?” she said.