A few months ago, my family and I were getting groceries at the market. While standing in the checkout line, I saw a man in the self-checkout who made me gawk longer than usual. He had a bigger build, a long reddish blond goatee and glasses. By the looks of it, he was purchasing a ginger beer.
Let me just assure you that I don't usually pay attention to what other people buy in the checkout. It's not my business and I really don't care. I also don't stare at other men (unless it's Brad Pitt or Edward Burns).
But this guy reminded me of Joe. His eyes appeared deep set, as I remembered Mr. Wellington's to be; his shoulders rounded a bit; but more importantly, his demeanor seemed laid back, which I definitely remember about Joe.
The guy stopped by the escalator, holding his bag and his ginger beer in the other hand. He opened the drink and began to sip, watching customers enter and exit.
As we walked past, I tried to get a better look. I don't remember Joe having glasses. But wow, it really looked like how I would picture a mid-thirties Joe.
When we got to the car, I told my husband that perhaps I saw Joe Wellington. His eyes widened and he told me to go ask if he was him.
"What do I say?"
"Ask if his name is Joe!" My husband insisted.
Sensing my hesitance, my husband asked me how sure I was that it could be him.
"You want me to go?" He asked. My husband so helpful.
I nodded, laughing at the scenario, and away my husband RAN from the parking garage into the building and up the escalator. Meanwhile my son repeated, "Dada dada dada" from the back seat.
It wasn't long after when my husband strolled back and got in, shaking his head. "He's gone."
Laughing, I started the engine and drove off.
That was the last "close" sighting I've had of a possible Joe Wellington.