The aisle of the grocery store most fraught with longing from slightly overweight persons of a certain age is the nut aisle. I was there myself, trolling, when a handsome mid-sixtyish man and woman approached with their cart from the opposite direction. He had sandy-gray hair and a well-trimmed beard. Hers was dark blond, short, wavy. Intelligent, alert faces.
She: “I have a good memory.” (American, pleasant, well-modulated)
He: (snorts, a perfect British-accented snort) “You do not. You have a terrible memory. You remember everything.”
It was clear by my spontaneous smile that I heard their exchange. The woman laughed, too, and made an affectionate “what can you do?” gesture.
I liked this couple. It was a moment.