As much as Frank hated shopping, there were times he couldn’t avoid a trip to the mall. On this particular adventure, he was on the hunt for khaki pants. To minimize his shopping exposure, he intended to perform a surgical strike. Get in, buy the pants, then get out.
“Frank? It’s that you?”
The voice caught him completely off guard.
“Frank, it’s Sam. Remember, from high school?”
Frank turned around to discover the forty year old version of his former classmate. He plastered on his best fake smile and replied, “How are you?”
Sam laughed. “Can’t complain. I own my own business. I have three locations now. It keeps me busy enough. How about you?”
Frank hesitated before answering. “I’m the Director of the National Association of Adhesive Notes,” he said.
The smile fell from Sam’s face. It was replaced with abject confusion. “Like Post-its?”
“There’s a lot more to it than that,” defended Frank.
Just over Sam’s shoulder Frank saw the khaki pants he was huntng for.
“Like what?” asked Sam.
Frank refocused on Sam and sighed. “We advocate for new uses for adhesive notes, regulate standards for paper and adhesive quality across the industry. Things like that.”
“I’ve never heard of such a thing. How’d you wind up doing that?” asked Sam.
“It’s a long story,” said Frank, going it would end the conversation.
“I bet,” encouraged Sam.
“Well, I had to be a jerk, but I’m in a bit of a hurry,” lied Frank.
“Lemme guess, you’re also the chief of the Post-it police?” laughed Sam.
Memories of high school came flooding back and Frank remembered why he didn’t keep up with Sam.
“Something like that,” grumbled Frank.
“Don’t let me keep you. I’d hate to be arrested for interfering with a Post-it police investigation,” Sam teased. He walked away chuckling to himself.
Frank rolled his eyes. “Don’t tempt me.”
As the two parted ways, Frank made a dash for the khakis. The moment he arrived at the rack, another voice called out.
Frank groaned. “You gotta be kidding me.”