That's what I always tell my friends. You are sooner or later bound to bump to everyone and anyone, there's nowhere to hide. In Amman, everyone is your best friend's cousin or your cousin's best friend. It is virtually impossible to go out for dinner or the gym with a group of friends and not spend anywhere from 15 to one whole night chatting up with a random ex-coworker or study mate, depending on your social status and your job turn-over rate. If you walk into Tche Tche, the 3rd Jordanian landmark after Petra the pink city, and the Abdoun Bridge, everyone stares at you through dense clouds of shisha smoke and sizes you up and down once you enter the coffee shop. The theory I formulated is, that it's either that everyone checks to see if they know you to initiate conversation, and hence displaying higher social status to their current group or they're simply bored, or that I have one damn good entrance.
Bumping into ex's is the most awkward, especially if they're clinging on to a new hulk, and more especially if you're hanging with the loser coworker you newly met discussing the weather and nonsensical shit, simply because you just didn't want to watch the rerun of 'So you think you can Dance?' on mbc 4 again.
(Ex walks by and lowers herself to catch your downward gaze, as you try to bolt out as quick as possible)
Ex (in the highest pitch tone since you first started dating): Hiiiiiiiiiiiiiii
You: Um, hey.
Ex: How are you, it's been ages! What happened with you? Are you still working with X company? (note the demeaning insinuation)
You: Yeah, I've been promoted to...
Ex (Cuts you off): This is my fiance, he's from [insert respectively according to financial status; Dubai, America, Saudi Arabia, Abu Dhabi, Qatar, Kuwait, etc]
Ex throws out her hand and shows you a big, fat-ass diamond ring which you proceed to shake awkwardly.
Fiance (looks you up and down, approaches with the widest grin, and shakes your hand so hard you feel it'll break off): Hi!
At this particular moment in time, for only-God-knows-what reason, Loser Coworker approaches from afar. You make a mental note to never take him out again. Even forced daily 'good mornings' at work will be downgraded to twice a week.
Loser coworker: Hi my name is Loser Coworker!
You: God this isn't happening!
Ex: What did you say? (eyes you suspiciously) Are you still talking to yourself?
You: Umm, no, I'm not. I have to go. Bye!
And you run as quick as your feet can carry you, leaving Loser Coworker, Ex and Mr. Fiance in the bustling cafe chatting and bonding. They hit it off and become instant friends and hang out every weekend for the rest of their brief, married lives at Blue Fig and the Dead Sea. After a few years, you hear that Mr. Fiance breaks up, or shoots Mrs. Ex in an honour crime because he caught her cheating with Loser Coworker.
Amman after all, is nothing but a corridor.