HAHA

A few years ago I decided that, whenever someone insulted me or acted rudely, I'd laugh it off. It was probably the only New Year's resolution I've come close to keeping.

It's useful, because nine times out of ten, the insult or rudeness is unintentional or thoughtless. Why take it personally?

Case in point. Last night I went to the Birchmere to meet my cousin for her husband's birthday celebration. I arrived early so I could save a good table for five (not quite early enough, and it turned out I needed space for seven, so the back of the room turned out fine).

While waiting to get in the doors, I sat at the bar with a glass of pinot grigio and my paperback - The Fall by Camus (yeah, I know - perfect reading for an old music hall. But I'm used to being out of place).

I'm trying to get out of myself a little more and be open to random conversations in public places. Not that I want to be picked up or anything. But a couple sat down at the bar table across from me, so maybe I'd just start a conversation. The guy was about my age, give or take seven or eight years, and the girl was much younger. They were both on their cell phones, but chatting in between texting.

I heard the guy grumble to the girl, "What a loser, can't get a date."

Okay, I knew he was talking about whoever he was communicating with on his phone. Maybe it was somebody who backed out of meeting them there. But he was sitting three feet away, directly across the table, from a middle-aged woman sitting alone in a bar with a glass of white wine and a book - the iconic image of "loser, can't get a date."

I smiled, laughing at myself and at the guy across the table from me, and continued with Camus' narrator on the absurdity of public charm.

The guy and the girl paused in their own conversation for a bit, so I asked the guy if he'd been to hear this singer before, Guy Clark. I wanted to know what kind of music to expect.

The guy was very friendly, an aging old-boy/hippie with a long grey ponytail. The much-younger girl he was with, I finally realized, was his daughter. The fact that he was there without a wife or significant other made him a bit more forgivably attractive. The music, he told me, was country ballads, Texas style, and this Guy Clark was very funny - droll, like Lyle Lovett.

The guy went to get drinks for his daughter and himself, so I chatted with the girl - a nursing student going for her LPN. I told her of my experiences with the health care system over the last few years, with my parents in and out of hospitals. "Nurses rock!" I said. (I admit wondering, fleetingly, if she would like me as a stepmother. Sigh. It was a semi-selfish thought: Who is going to take care of me when it's my turn to be in and out of hospitals?)

When her dad came back, the girl was playing around with the settings on her new camera. She was trying to turn off the automatic flash. She let me look for the setting - I never found it on her camera. I whipped out my own camera to show her the function I was looking for.

I'm very proud of my little camera. It's the one I won at the pre-concert party for Clay Aiken's 2007 Tulsa concert. So I bragged about how I won my camera at a Clay Aiken concert.

The guy laughed. I mean, LAUGHED. Laughed harder than he should have. "You like CLAY AIKEN? Seriously? HAHAHA!!"

I just smiled. (Yes, of course! I LOVE Clay Aiken! How normal of me!)

Maybe that was enough to break the ice - he introduced himself, Rick, and I said my name. The daughter introduced herself too. (Sorry - Amanda? Angela? I am really sorry I didn't get her name too. Too flustered.)

By then my number was about to be called to go into the dining hall. Rick and daughter were only a few numbers behind me. I found my table for my cousins and never saw my new friends again until the intermission between opening act and Guy Clark. We ran into each other in the hallway leading to the restrooms. Rick patted me on the shoulder and smiled broadly. Amanda/Angela(?) was cute as a doll. We all said we were enjoying the show. I went back to my party's table and never saw them again.

Anyway, I had a great time. In spite of being thoroughly (unintentionally) insulted twice. I think it was the right attitude to take, don't you?

love, hosaa,
laughing off loving Clay as much as ever, because it feels good.