So, how are things?

The problem with living where you've lived your whole life is that you constantly run-into people you've known all that time. This isn't necessarily a bad thing, nor is it good. Especially when someones been through some drastic changes and it takes some time to notice them, like an artificial limb for instance. - a change so drastic in fact that it called for an immediate drop of the jaw, accompanied by some stuttering and fake interest in how the original leg was lost, all while I tried to gather my thoughts and think of the right thing to say to this person I literally hadn't seen in years, and, come to think of it,  hadn't really spoken to much before then either...         

... but in my defense, he really whipped that thing out when I least expected it. "Hey! So how are things?" I asked him knowing how little I actually cared. (this apparently has become a social mainstay in our culture, the origin of which dates back to cavemen who would politely beat each other senseless with clubs until they were both dead, which actually sounds considerably less painful than what we now do.)  And he replied, "Oh you know, the house, the kids, I dropped out of school last fall to work at my Father-in-law's dealership full-time and my leg was ripped off by a giant wood chipper."

I was frozen. I'm not good with awkward situations, although I seem to be involved in them in some form or another sometimes several times a day.

I told him that I hoped his leg would "get better," which was the wrong thing to say. His leg would never "get better,". And his leg would never grow back, because to my knowledge he was not a lizard or a plant.

There was some silence and we exchanged awkward goodbyes, pretending like it never happened. I quickly pumped the rest of my gas, got in the car and drove away, brushing it off as just another one of many confrontations with random acquaintances from the past.