“Oh crap,” I thought. “She wants to squeeze into my lane.” I opened my window and leaned out to hear what she was trying to say over the clang clang of construction activity.
“Hey! Where’d you get the sticker?”
“The sticker! The oyster sticker!”
“In Wellfleet,” I hollered back.
Thus began our shouted conversation. I learned she’s heading down to Wellfleet next week to tour the oyster flats. She’s from somewhere nearby—Winthrop?—and had heard about the Wellfleet oyster cooperative, and wants to learn more.
My lane started moving and we waved goodbye. Two blocks later, we were side by side again. I put the van in park, jumped out, and handed her my Half Shell Blog card.
“Send me an email!” I called, jumping back in the van as the knot of traffic loosened and moved.
“It was meant to be!” she shouted.
Is she an oyster farmer? Oyster eater? Who knows. But this I know: Oyster lovers are EVERYWHERE!