How to Sneak Home for the Holidays

by Matthew J.X. Malady

People drop things on the Internet and run all the time. So we have to ask. In this edition, Decider.com deputy editor Tyler Coates tells us more about that thing where you go home for the holidays and then run into random people from high school at the grocery store.

Just played How Many High School Classmates Can I Avoid At Food Lion and killed it yet again.

— Tyler Coates (@tylercoates) November 28, 2014

Tyler! So what happened here?

It was the day after Thanksgiving, and I ran to the Food Lion (which is a grocery store chain for those not from the Mid-Atlantic region) in my hometown. I’m from a VERY SMALL TOWN called Montross in the Northern Neck of Virginia, which is that northern-most peninsula in the Tidewater region between the Potomac and Rappahannock rivers. (Even most people who live in Virginia don’t know where this is.) The population is roughly 300 people, which I like to brag about even though it’s a bit misleading: The town limits are very small (I grew up right outside of the line), and there’s really a few thousand people in the surrounding area — the greater Montross metropolitan area, if you will, which includes one stoplight, the Dairy Freeze, and a couple of tourist attractions like a state park and Robert E. Lee and George Washington’s birthplaces.

The point is: It’s hard to hide from anybody. Both of my parents grew up around there and went to the same high school as me (at least one of my mom’s teachers taught me for three years), my grandparents grew up there, and everybody knows everybody. I enjoy going home to visit my mom for holidays, but for the most part I hang out in her house eating snacks and watching TV. I don’t really keep in touch with a lot of people I went to high school with — most of my closest friends (which, to be honest, there aren’t many) moved away after college, just like I did.

It’s not that I actively dislike anyone that I went to high school with, as the 10+ years since graduating have allowed me to get over all of that. But, you know, I did not have the easiest time growing up in a rural Southern town. I got picked on through school for a variety of reasons: I was short, scrawny, liked reading more than playing sports, and, duh, was totally gay, although I didn’t come out to anybody until after college. And it’s not like my family and I posted a bulletin in the weekly newspaper: People just sort of found out on their own, because it’s a mostly conservative area and you don’t run around with Act Up buttons and rainbow flags (as I do every day here in New York, OBVIOUSLY).

Anyway: I went to the Food Lion to get something for lunch (I was already tired of Thanksgiving leftovers less than 24 hours later). Now, the local grocery store is generally a hub for all kinds of social interaction. You just never know who you’ll run into! The morning that my dad died a few years ago, I ran into two men that go to my parents’ church there (I think I had gone to buy tissues, or something? I probably just needed to get the hell out of the house) and broke the news to both of them within a 10-minute span. That’s the kind of close-knit place I’m talking about: Within the hour of your dad’s death, you’re going to run into someone you don’t know particularly well but has still been someone you’ve known all of your life. And odds are his son called you a fag when you were both teenagers.

Luckily, I didn’t have to stop and chat with anybody, although I definitely ran into a girl from my class who is now dating another guy from our high school who I had a minor crush on back in the day, and who is still pretty hot. They didn’t recognize me, though, so I was able to breeze on through without making small talk.

What strategies have worked best for you in these situations? Can you run down some tips and pointers that we can use when forced to go to the store back home over the holidays, because this seriously happens to everyone every damn year.

On this particular day, I went prepared with my version of that thing when glamorous movie stars go “incognito” out in public: I wore aviator sunglasses and a knit hat. I have the benefit of looking a lot different than I did in high school, thank God. I’m probably two inches taller than I was at graduation, about 45 pounds heavier, and I have a beard. I look nothing like the awkward kid who worked at the pharmacy in high school and basically interacted with everyone in town (and knew what drugs they were on, which I’ll admit was a nice bonus).

I’ve never been rude to anyone I’ve run into, because that’s not really my style (also, all of this is me being 100% neurotic and crazy, as I sometimes feel myself morph into that weird teen whenever I’m home even though, when I stop to think about it, I’m doing A-OK these days). Only once have I actively avoided speaking to anyone, and that was one of my high school English teachers who made it her mission to make me feel terrible about myself not just throughout senior year but also after I graduated and visited home from college. (I was wearing a James Madison University shirt, which is where I went to college, and she told me she thought I went to William and Mary. When I told her, no, I did not get into W&M;, she replied: “Maybe it’s for the best. I’d be really worried about you there.” Gee, thanks, lady!) Last April, when I was visiting for a week with my boyfriend, I turned into the frozen food aisle and saw her at the other end, and I considered climbing into a freezer just to avoid her seeing me and coming up with another way to undermine me. (I was 29 years old when this happened. I am ridiculous.)

In terms of tips and pointers, I don’t think I have any good ones other than swiftly moving to another aisle when you encounter someone you’d rather not speak to. A college friend of mine once admitted that she climbed into a department store’s clothing rack when she saw a frenemy from high school at the mall. I guess if you’re able to do that surreptitiously, go for it! (It’s kinda fun.)

Lesson learned (if any)?

I think the real lesson is that nobody gives a shit? I mean, I’m not a local celebrity, and no one is going to stop me, and also speaking to people I haven’t seen in years is also not going to be a pain in the ass. If someone makes a friendly gesture such as engaging in conversation, it’s because they are good people and not because they want to make fun of me or inadvertently remind of me of a time when I hated myself more than anything else in the world. It’s also a good reminder for myself not to be a total dick and think that I’m too good to speak to anyone in my home town, because doing so is actually completely rude and not nice, and despite what anyone might think about me, I mostly just want to be nice and friendly with people.

Just one more thing.

One Christmas, I went to the Food Lion to buy a bottle of wine to take to a friend’s house, and I only had a temporary license (I was waiting for my New York license to arrive in the mail) without a photo on it. I was astounded when the cashier carded me, and embarrassed because I didn’t have any proof that I was almost 30 years old. So I said, “Uhhh, my name is Tyler and we took Spanish three years in a row? Do you remember me?” She let me buy the wine.

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Photo by Mark Sardella