Six months ago I never would have dreamed of having the conversation I shared in line at Market Basket the other night, but we make the best of what’s around.

The lady stationed 12 feet in front of me in line turned around desultorily, as she waited for the transaction at the register to finish so she could advance.

“That’s such a pretty mask!” she cried to the lady six feet in front of me, who now faced her. “I’m still wearing these dull, disposable masks,” she said, almost apologetically. “I’d hoped it wouldn’t go on this long. But I need a mask like yours!” she told the lady, whose mask I still could not see.

Then the lady 12 feet ahead saw me. “And your mask! I love that!” I winced. When she exclaimed, “I love that!” she sounded just like Lisa Robertson of “Local Steals and Deals,” who exclaims, “I LOVE THAT!!!” at least five times in a two-minute spot about every product she hawks.

I counted among the incidental benefits of the COVID-19 era that my mask hid my wince from this lady.

“I love the Stones! They’re my favorite band!” My favorite mask (a phrase I never contemplated uttering until recently) is emblazoned with the Stones “lips” logo.

The lady’s exclamation prompted a voice to chime in from six feet behind me. “Dude, you’re wearing a Stones mask? Let me see.” I turned around just after the lady six feet in front of me did. She wore a pink mask decorated with an image of a butterfly. I must admit, it was pretty.

When I turned to greet the voice behind me, I faced a kid wearing a skull-and-crossbones mask – and a “Rolling Stones 1975 Tour” T-shirt.

“I like your mask, too,” I told him.

“Thanks, man!” he replied. “Hey, have you seen the Stones? I was supposed to go this summer, but, you know. . . . Did you see this tour?” He gestured at his T-shirt.

“1975 Tour,” I read again. I do have a portrait of myself from 1975 – my nursery school portrait. I’m wearing a shirt featuring not the Stones logo but an image of Mr. Potatohead.

I didn’t ask the kid how old he thought I was. Apparently I look old, even with the mask and my mostly brown hair. Still, I had some fun with him.

“I’ve seen them, but I didn’t catch that tour. Did you?”

“No,” he said sheepishly, taking my question with utmost seriousness. “I’m only 15. But where did you get the mask?”

I told him, and then I told the lady 12 feet in front of me, after the lady six feet in front of me told her where to buy the pink mask decorated with a butterfly.

Strangers in line at a supermarket, complimenting each other on our masks and exchanging notes on where to buy them. Six months ago, who would have contemplated such a scene? But, also, who would have contemplated strangers striking up such an animated conversation in a grocery store line? I’ve chatted with a friend I randomly encountered in a grocery store line before. But this marked the first time I participated in a multi-party conversation among strangers waiting to check out at Market Basket.

“We’re all in this together,” may seem a trite line when it’s posted on some store window. But when you find yourself chatting up strangers about masks while you wait in line to buy your milk and eggs, the saying rings true.

And I didn’t even get the chance to tell them about the “Def Leppard Hysteria 1987” mask that should land on my doorstep any day now. I bet the kid would love that one too. But, no, kid, I didn’t see Def Leppard in 1987 either. That concert wouldn’t come till at LEAST a few years later. How old do you think I am again?

(Benjamin T. King is a Concord resident and a partner at the Concord law firm Douglas, Leonard & Garvey, P.C.)