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A Friendly Exchange
Sunday, May 07, 2006

A couple of good nights out with friends followed by a big family get-together makes for great contrast.

I attended my grandfather’s 82nd birthday dinner last night, and save for my usual banter with Whammy (whose mauve shirt, red mohawk, pink strawberry shake and orange curry made him look like one warm blur), I think the person I had the longest conversation with was the waiter. There was this one other person who tried to talk to me, my uncle Gabby’s latest significant other, but she pretty much killed any chance of rapport we could have had between us.

“Hi, Margie,” she began, looking me up and down with those huge eyes of hers. “I’ve heard so, so much about you. So much.”

Okay, that scared me.

“Hi! Really? (laughs good-naturedly) Like what?”

And she looked at me nervously and never said a word to me again, unless you count that one time when she asked me how my soba was.

Now, I don’t think declaring your knowledge of someone and then completely refusing to divulge said knowledge is a good way to start a conversation. And I don’t think staring uneasily at that someone you supposedly know so much of for the rest of the night is going to help. Nothing good’s going to come out of that. Man, she’s weird. Or devious, I don’t know. I tried so hard to think of something gracious to say after that, but I couldn’t.

“Oh, the soba’s very good.”

It was. I swear.


posted by marguerite @ 2:25 PM

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Marguerite.
23.
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