To the gent who may have recognized me in the supermarket

I answered "no" because I thought you said, "Excuse me, is your name Racine?"

It was only after I walked away that I thought you might have said in a Washington, D.C., accent, "Excuse me, is your name Miss Eden?" But it seemed indecorous to race back to you to ask if that was, in fact, what you said, when my arms were straining to hold two bags of frozen Bird's Eye Steamers Brussels Sprouts, a quart of Lactaid, and a yam.