“Everywhere I go…”

…I make new friends and new enemies,” said Shirley last night. She was referring to me as the friend and the waiters as enemies. They were definitely glaring at her. “They work but they don’t think!”
Shirley caught my attention because I thought she was signing to someone. Actually, she was having quite an animated conversation with herself. ­čÖé I thought she might be deaf, until she approached me and spoke in French. When I replied in English, she switched, no problem.


Shirley was being stood up by “Romeo.” She wasn’t happy. Who could blame her? She told me about her dad, who died at 42 – he was “very nervous,” like she described herself. She had a bunch of coping mechanisms, but she’s lived ’til 60 so far (and doesn’t look it). Definitely savvy, and very tuned in – she knew she had caught my attention without seeing me look (that or she has superhuman peripheral vision).
She gave me a brochure of cutlery – she liked the picture (possibly only under the current circumstances?!).
She really wanted to go dancing (!) salsa or tango; unfortunately I really needed to finish reading for my meeting today. I can imagine she could be a lot of fun – she’s as in the world as a person can be: taking the good (her bracelet said “smile”) with the bad. “I understand it NOW,” she wrote, “He was too ANGRY, he was NOT indifferent.”
She also gave me some direct advice. She asked if I like to cook, and I said I’m not very good at it. I volunteered that I like good food, and she said, “Say that you like to cook!” I mused that this might be a lie, she said, pointing to her head to indicate thinking: “Don’t be stupid!” Adding, “I was.” ­čÖü
Maybe Romeo wanted her to cook?

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