Unexpected meetings
What line do you cross when things move from strange coincidence to synchronicity?
Tonight we were all out on the town for a birthday supper. The usual kind of thing, where you scramble to get everyone into the car (yes, a Versa can hold five adults, comfortably, as long as all involved remain polite). Once pointed in the right direction, the city finds you, as long as the roads haven’t been closed due to (name the mysterious reason here).
Now, parking is a game. The city has a huge bank (in the monetary sense) of parking meters, and at any given moment a percentage of them are “broken”. No physical symptom; you put in your money, nothing happens and you drive off to find another one that might still be playing fairly. On a Friday evening, many people are playing the game, so you can expect to tour certain neighbourhoods, intensely. We’re learning, and after three stops, we opted for a full tariff parking lot.
We’d eaten, and the conversation among the six of us turned to people seen and heard about. Son #2 mentioned that a girl at work had wondered if his father was (me, by name), because her boyfriend had mentioned that he had been daycared (is that a verb?) with someone who might be son #2. Coincidence, until the brother of the boyfriend appeared at our table as our designated waiter.
Are you confused yet? We hadn’t seen this waiter in well over a decade (this is not a reflection on the time needed to be served at the restaurant). Here he was, only minutes after the family had come up on conversation for the first time in years. A little spooky.
