Tuesday nights I usually eat at Six Burner because wine is half price by the glass (with lovely choices) and the food is always great. I had come from the Paul Mellon lecture sponsored by VMFA, "Sisley: The English Impressionist," which was an interesting enough topic. He's thought of as English because of his first name, Alfred, and because he always had British citizenship. It's just that he spent almost his entire life in France, including being born there. Not so English. The woman who sat next to me told her husband when he arrived that she sat next to me because I looked like a good talker. I'm okay with that.
When I got to Six Burner and sat at the end of the bar, a man shouted to me from a corner booth asking if I was the girl in the framed picture sitting on the bar (it was the upcoming jazz singer) . I wasn't, so he apologized profusely. While his dining partner was taking care of business, he came over to me and gave me a $20 bill as part of his apology. This stuff really happens?
Not 20 minutes later, a customer comes in and sits at the bar. The bartender says we're both regulars and introduces us. We're close in age and start chatting. A four hour conversation ensued with a stranger and I was told I was an excellent conversationalist. Such a compliment! I can't think of anything I'd rather be stereotyped as.
Today I actually heard back from a potential employer to whom I had sent my resume.She was telling me that I might be over-qualified for the position and she didn't want to waste my time or for me to get in there and be bored with what I’ve done in the past. But someone considered hiring me...if only briefly. And she's undoubtedly right.
And that's just the last 24 hours.