Case of the Anne Maries

I think I may have a fairy godmother named Anne Marie who is a retired school teacher.

A couple of years ago in Livingston, I was sitting in the bar of a venue prior to a concert enjoying a drink. A trio of women joined me. One in particular took a keen interest. She is a retired school teacher who has been on some wonderful travel adventures.  She taught the equivalent of high school, sometimes chaperoning the children on trips.  We talked about what we had learned from our experiences and what the future might bring.  We had a wonderful chat.  She found out my last minute plans to see the concert involved a taxi to the airport and then a bus back into Edinburgh after the show, retracing my steps to the venue (minus the taxi driver getting completely lost trying to find the venue hopefully).  Not cheap.  Not well planned.  All my other options had fallen through and I just went with it.  Anne Marie offered to give me a lift to the airport.  In fact, there was no offer.  She was giving me a ride and that was that.  It was a bit more adventurous for us as we got lost on the way to the airport.  I was able to slip onto the last bus into the city centre and home safe.  She gave me her email address to stay in touch but I must have got it wrong.  I tried variations in desperate hope to be in touch but never a response.

Recently I was sitting in a bar prior to a concert enjoying a drink (there may be a pattern here).  I shifted over a bar stool in order to make room for a group and ended up starting a conversation with the woman I was now sitting next to.  She is a retired school teacher from Glasgow.  The similarities in their history end there (except the name).  She taught primary school.  She had not had an opportunity to do much traveling but planned to in retirement.  We talked about Celtic Connections, Glasgow, gun control and the effect of Dunblane, politics, and various other rambles.  We had a wonderful chat.  Anne Marie helped me learn more about life here.  I had a lovely evening of great conversation and laughter.

Maybe it was just an odd coincidence.  I much prefer to believe in a fairy godmother.  They both gave me gifts, gifts of companionship and knowledge (and a rescue in the first case).  They took the moment to get to know part of me and share a part of themselves.

I know.  It happens all the time.  I have too often found myself with my head down in my own world focused on my to-do list, running from thing to thing, not engaging with people around me, and missing out on a really great part of life.

Taking the time to interact with the people around you seems so deeply woven into the culture here.  It is not exclusive to Scotland and Glasgow in particular by any means, I just want to acknowledge it here.  In a city approximately the size of Seattle, I end up chatting about good yoga classes with the post office clerk while I post a letter and learning local history from a waiter in a busy restaurant.  Whether it is the man who works in the train station by my flat, or the woman helping me select an interview suit, or the lovely people I have met at the gym, or the person sitting next to me in a cafe, they all have taken the time.  They are polite, genuine, humourous, caring, open, generous, and easy-going.  Characteristics I hope to deepen in my character.