Monday, March 29, 2004
We are family
I experienced the most wonderful, serendipitous event this weekend. I'm not referring to the THREE pairs of shoes that I purchased at Designer Shoe Warehouse. For $60! I kid you not. That place is addictive. But that's not what has me so juiced.
Before I got to DSW on Saturday, I stopped at the Apple Store at Northridge Fashion Center. My iBook baby is not happy, not happy at all. I had hopes that one of the barkeeps at the Genius Bar would be able to advise me how to remedy the situation. I patiently wait my turn only to be saddened by the news that I have to send my lover away for 7-10 business days for an assessment. I pack the baby away and prepare to leave the store, disheartened. Then, out of the blue, someone asks me if I know any Peeks. I turn around and see a beautiful young woman staring at me. Gorgeous girl. I say, "Know any? I am one." She tells me that she is my cousin, Kay.* I am flabbergasted.
Of all the gin joints (okay, genius bars) in all the world, she had to walk into mine! Though we are of the same generation, we had never met. Her mother and mine are first cousins. She grew up in Detroit and I in New Jersey and Washington, DC. And here we were, thousands of miles from our respective origins in the same place and time in Northridge, California, of all places. Getting our iBooks checked. Get with that.
In my trademarked quiet way, I reached out and grabbed her and yelled (for the entire Apple Store to hear) "OH, MY GOD!" The genius behind the bar and all of the patrons served as our avid audience. We just kept screaming (she is my cousin, after all) and hugging. It was theater! And her mother was visiting from the Motor City. It. Was. Too. Much. We had breakfast together yesterday and then went to Point Dume in Malibu. It was fantastic.
The really shocking thing? She recognized me from three prominent genetic markers in my family. My hands. My voice. My booty. Day-um. You just can't hide who you are! So don't even try.
*Some names have been changed to protect the innocent.
I experienced the most wonderful, serendipitous event this weekend. I'm not referring to the THREE pairs of shoes that I purchased at Designer Shoe Warehouse. For $60! I kid you not. That place is addictive. But that's not what has me so juiced.
Before I got to DSW on Saturday, I stopped at the Apple Store at Northridge Fashion Center. My iBook baby is not happy, not happy at all. I had hopes that one of the barkeeps at the Genius Bar would be able to advise me how to remedy the situation. I patiently wait my turn only to be saddened by the news that I have to send my lover away for 7-10 business days for an assessment. I pack the baby away and prepare to leave the store, disheartened. Then, out of the blue, someone asks me if I know any Peeks. I turn around and see a beautiful young woman staring at me. Gorgeous girl. I say, "Know any? I am one." She tells me that she is my cousin, Kay.* I am flabbergasted.
Of all the gin joints (okay, genius bars) in all the world, she had to walk into mine! Though we are of the same generation, we had never met. Her mother and mine are first cousins. She grew up in Detroit and I in New Jersey and Washington, DC. And here we were, thousands of miles from our respective origins in the same place and time in Northridge, California, of all places. Getting our iBooks checked. Get with that.
In my trademarked quiet way, I reached out and grabbed her and yelled (for the entire Apple Store to hear) "OH, MY GOD!" The genius behind the bar and all of the patrons served as our avid audience. We just kept screaming (she is my cousin, after all) and hugging. It was theater! And her mother was visiting from the Motor City. It. Was. Too. Much. We had breakfast together yesterday and then went to Point Dume in Malibu. It was fantastic.
The really shocking thing? She recognized me from three prominent genetic markers in my family. My hands. My voice. My booty. Day-um. You just can't hide who you are! So don't even try.
*Some names have been changed to protect the innocent.
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