After I went to an exhibition at the gallery at
Union Station, I decided to have lunch before I left the building. It's been restored to it's former (ca. 1908) glory, and I had a good time looking at all the lovely architectural details.
I chose the
Fred Harvey Diner because it was the most economical choice, and it looked interesting. Kind of reminded me of
Legal Seafood in Boston, with all the white till in there.
(Am I the only one who thinks that Legal Seafood looks like a giant bathroom? Surely not.)
My waitress was rather hesitant, and seemed to have a little difficulty hearing me. This was due in part to the horrible acoustics of a place with 95 foot ceilings that has marble floors and tile everywhere. After listening to her for a bit, I detected a slight accent, and I asked here where she was originally from. She said she was Russian, from Moscow. She didn't linger to chat, as it was busy at the lunch hour, so our conversation was rather brief.
I noticed a handsome young man who was also working in the area, and I overheard him speaking to her in a foreign language. He came over to see if I needed anything, and I asked him if he was Russian also. He said that he was, and that he was from
Tashkent. I frowned and said, "But that's not in Russia, it's in Uzbekistan." He was quite surprised and asked me how I knew this. He was even more surprised when I told him that I have friends in Uzbekistan. He seemed dubious until I started naming them, and then he was astonished and delighted. He was much chatty than my waitress, but he also had to keep working.
I overheard the two women at the next table talking to him in a foreign language, and when he left to go back to the kitchen I asked them what language it was. One of them told me that they had both lived in Western China for several years, and they were speaking a language that resembles
Uzbek.
Now, what are the chances that four people would all happen to be in the same place at the same time with Uzbekistan in common? We might have missed each other quite easily, or even missed the connection despite having been in close proximity.
Just another example of Six Degrees of Separation?
Bright Blessings,
Spiral Crone
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posted by Spiral Crone -- 10:20 PM.
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