I was at a chocolate festival yesterday.
It's a thing my town does every year. I think it's hosted by Planned Parenthood, or it's a fundraiser for them or something, so those who attend are of an overwhelmingly Democratic majority. It's mostly the politics people and the university people. They all know each other.
The way it works is that each person pays five dollars, and lots of people bring in plates full of pieces of different kinds of chocolate foods. Cakes, cookies, truffles, whatever. There's so much chocolate.
I was sitting at a table, and I was a little perturbed, because I had taken little samples of so many different things that I wanted to try. But I didn't really want to eat all of them, because it would've been way too much chocolate. I looked around the room for my friends, and the mayor of my town, who was standing near my table, happened to glance at me at the moment that I was looking in her direction.
It was that eye contact between people who don't really know each other that means they have to say something, some kind of small talk, so that it's not just a "I'm looking at you and you're looking at me" moment. Kirksville's a friendly town.
So she came over and asked me how I was doing, and I said I was fine and asked her how she was doing, and she said she was fine. Then:
Mayor of Kirksville: So did you get all the chocolate you wanted?
Me: Oh, man, yeah, there's way too much. I'm really hoping my friends will come back and share this plate with me, because I just wanted to try this stuff; I didn't want to eat all of it.
Mayor: Well, I admire your restraint. If I get a plate of chocolate in front of me, I just eat it all. Now I don't feel too well.
Me: Oh. (Sympathetically, not indifferently. I'm not a jerk to the mayor.)
And then she moved on. And that's my first conversation with the mayor of Kirksville.
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4 comments:
If the story were about Bloomberg, the awkward momentary eye contact would not have necessitated a chocolate conversation (chocosation?) I'm sure he makes awkward momentary eye contact with dozens of people a day (as do I, and, wow, jeez, I usually don't feel obligated to acknowledge them.)
Everyone in Kirksville might be nicer than everyone on the East Coast. Although I guess it's not very nice of me to make a blanket statement like that.
Talking about eye contact, but nothing to do with awkward conversations or chocolate, I've realized that if I walk down the hall and make eye contact, I'm more likely to run into people than if I just look down. Gives meaning to "all alone in a crowded room". Kind of scary if you think about it. We live in a world where we're all alone with everyone else being alone. Together.
Emily, you're totally the least nice person I know. Totally.
Sometimes I wish it didn't always necessitate uncomfortable conversations, but I think it's a big part of the mayor's job here, actually. That and not burning down your bar and running away to Mexico. You don't get reelected if you do that.
I run into people so many times a day at our high school. The hallways are so narrow. I think it doesn't matter if I'm looking or not.
This lady in my Italian class makes chocolate for a living. Needless to say, we've become good friends. :)
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