Last night I went to see (and briefly meet) author Ann M. Martin, who’s written many books, but is best known for her Babysitter’s Club series. During a period of about 15 years she wrote 250, let me write that again, TWO HUNDRED AND FIFTY books related to this series. I don’t know if non-writers can understand the magnitude of this, but that means that for many years she was averaging a book per month! (Most writers take at least a year to finish a book, many writers take more. And she was putting out a dozen! Ack!!! That is superhuman.)

I will not even attempt to compare myself, rather I will just awkwardly segue into a strange thought I had while driving my kids to school this morning. The title of this thought was “When complete strangers cross the universally accepted stranger boundary.” Two unrelated instances came to mind.

1. I was eating dinner with my husband and we were seated at a table for four. (Thus two empty chairs.) A man walked into the restaurant with his trench coat over his arm and found his party seated at a table two over from ours. After saying hello to them, he looked around for a place to hang his coat. Not finding a hook or coat rack, he then walked over to my table and draped his coat over one of the empty chairs without even acknowledging me or my husband. He then went to eat dinner with his friends.

2.I was walking through the parking lot of my grocery store when a woman approached me. Do I have anything on the back of my pants, she asked turning around. I inspected, assuming she’d sat in something, then reassured her that her pants looked fine. “Oh good,” she said, “I’ve been having some bad stomach troubles today.” (Actually, she used the D word, but I just didn’t feel like typing that.)

So please tell me that you’ve had strangers cross the line, otherwise I’ll have to assume it’s just me.