Soul, with a Side of Sad

I swear, all I did was sit down. I wasn't looking for anything more than a seat.

My Sunday began, as all good Sundays should, with brunch, but not at a restaurant.

The Sharon Jones soul brunch was happening at Steady Sounds, an easy three-block walk from my house, and the occasion was the impending release of the new Sharon Jones and the Dap Kings album.

I walked in to hear the mellow madness of Michael Murphy spinning soul 45s and proceeded upstairs where he was for brunch.

There I found the pop-up style guru, the cheese whiz and lots of others chowing down. Me, I passed by three kinds of Proper Pies to get to Heritage's chicken and waffles with chile honey.

I may not be a southerner by birth, but damned if I don't think that chicken and waffles is the best breakfast ever.

Downstairs, I found more friends, the mod-looking DJ who's growing out her bangs for the first time since I've known her and a favorite cute couple.

I'd seen on Facebook recently that half the couple had posted that, "a perfect Friday night would include art, pie and dancing," so naturally I asked if his had.

Affirmative. Curious about the source of the pie, he said he'd gotten it at Bamboo, "served with a side of crochety."

Apparently when you order pie at Bamboo at 1:45 a.m., the server will tell you you're not allowed to eat it there. And the pie won't be as good as at Garnett's, either, he said.

I couldn't resist looking at the latest art show, Nick Crider's "Work," a collection of prints as well as posters for music shows, trying to decide which one I'd like to own given how reasonably priced they were.

Too full from brunch and with too many people to talk to, I couldn't decide, but I'll go back and score one before the show ends, that much I know.

When I left there, soul music was still blaring and the joint was just as full, always a pleasure to see at my neighborhood record store.

My next stop was the VMFA to see "Atonement," part of the "60 Films in 60 Days" series they're doing.

I slid into a seat at the end of my favorite row and the couple next to me turned as if they'd been awaiting my arrival.

It was the trifecta. Recent transplants landing in my lap again, just like the past two nights.

These had moved from Morgantown, West Virginia and were over the moon about being back in a place with more than chain restaurants and culture at every turn.

They'd just heard of Lucy's and wanted to know if I'd been. They wanted restaurant recommendations and to know about docent tours at the VMFA. They were my kind of people.

In the fifteen minutes before the film began, I learned that they'd seen the Hollywood photography show and, like me, liked it even better than the costume show.

The one of Liz Taylor on the beach was her favorite, she told me after asking mine (couldn't decide).

Interestingly enough, she'd once had a chance to meet Liz, back when she was Warner's wife and living in Virginia.

But a prior engagement had prevented her from going and she'd never gotten over missing her chance.

"I divorced him because he kept me from meeting Elizabeth Taylor," the woman said dryly and I knew we were going to be friends.

I guess that makes you the lucky replacement, I said to her current husband.

"That's me, Mr. Lucky," he grinned, actually sounding sincere.

They were delightful and just before the lights went down, insisted that we exchange cards after the movie so we could meet for drinks or dinner.

Honestly, I did not try to engage these people, they engaged me.

As for "Atonement," I'd seen it at the Westhampton back in 2007 when it came out, but frankly, anything that happened before 2009 is like another lifetime to me, so I'd forgotten how a) beautifully shot it was and b) heart-breakingly sad.

The first half takes place on a summer's day so scenes of lush, green, English fields, hollyhocks and Queen Anne's lace blooming everywhere, felt as faraway as 2007.

Doors were left open, bees crawled on windowpanes and people asked questions at dinner like, "Does the hot weather make you behave badly?"

I only wish it was hot enough for me to answer yes to that.

After an ending that had me in tears, my new friends were as good as their word, insisting we get together soon for drinks and more conversation at the very least.

He handed me a card with both their names, both their phone numbers and a shared e-mail address printed on it.

I found it quaint, perhaps because I'd never seen a couple's card before.

Maybe it's the prize you get when you finally find Mr. Lucky.