Six Degrees

One more example of how small the world really is....  A friend from the valley wanted to meet for lunch.  "There must be some nice little restaurants near you."  Not so much.  I suggested meeting in Pleasant Valley at "Bones," a biker bar that has amazing hamburgers, and sent directions.  Even compared to Fair Play, Pleasant Valley still would not qualify as a town...which is what Mary was expecting, but it does have a landmark gas station.  Business was fairly slow as we sat at the bar and chatted.  During the course of the conversation, I mentioned the Dobermans that had been in the goat pen.  The bartender (bartenderess? bartenderette?), wiping glasses nearby, said, "Do you live somewhere around Winery-By-the-Creek?  Those were my friend's dogs and she had to pay a huge fine to get them out of the pound."  Yikes.  I didn't want to get eighty-sixed!  More patrons arrived and Mary and I were able to enjoy our meal.  Standing in the parking lot later saying goodbye, a woman followed us out and said, "I want to thank you for protecting my dogs.  I was so worried about them when they went missing and was so relieved when I got the call from Animal Control."  Given that I don't go out often, that I would choose that particular place, and don't find Dobermans in my yard all the time, what are the chances that the bartender would overhear our talk or that the owner would come into the bar that day?  I commend the owner for her responsible attitude, understanding that my concern was for the animals, hers as well as mine.

I used to laugh when someone would ask, "Where are you from?," when I lived in Southern California and I'd say, "Anaheim."  Then they'd say, "Oh!  Do you know So-and-So?"  (Anaheim is a huge city.)  Now I'm thinking that's not as funny...it might be possible.