.flickr-photo { border: solid 2px #000000; }.flickr-yourcomment { }.flickr-frame { text-align: left; padding: 3px; }.flickr-caption { font-size: 0.8em; margin-top: 0px; }
(I’m re-posting this with Mick’s photo of us. His version of the story of our meeting is now on his blog (whiteroseboy.blogspot.com). Note: my hand rests on his shoulder, which is physical contact that I, an uptight American woman, am comfortable with.)
One of my steadfast commentators on this blog has been White Rose Boy, also known as “Mick” on his blog (whiteroseboy.blogspot.com). Mick lives in Yorkshire, England and there’s no natural reason why the two of us would ever wind up in the same physical place. But we did. Mick is apparently a big fan of Chicago and he likes to take regular vacations. His latest visit to my city took place this past weekend and he invited me out to dinner.
I was depressed the day we met. My new restaurant still wasn’t open, I’d just worked a three-day office temp assignment that was now over, and I was feeling like the pathetic loser of the universe for being unable to earn a living. Un. Em. Ployed.
But even in depression I like to stay social, so I made my way over to Joey’s Brickhouse on Belmont Avenue where Mick and I were meeting. He stood up as soon as I walked in and he greeted me warmly. Too warmly for me, an American. In a global context, Mick was right in step with people from Latin American countries, European countries, hell any country EXCEPT the U.S: he moved to greet me with a hug. But since I’m a cold, frigid American (remember, Mexican culture hasn’t rubbed off on me that much) I received it very stiffly. Should I apologize because I prefer handshakes? Okay: I’m sorry, but I’m an American who prefers handshakes.
We got past that and sat down. I told Mick I was feeling depressed and he was very nice about it (his mood seemed fine). I also warned him that because I was feeling like crap, I would be ordering dessert. This actually seemed to satisfy him since apparently Mick is not averse to indulging in sweets at the end of a meal (I had a banana split and he had the cherry cheesecake).
I don’t know if you could have predicted it (although anyone who reads Mick’s and my blogs might be able to), but the only obstacles to having a good time were presented by me. Fortunately, Mick seems to be one of those guys who is pretty even-keeled and easy to get along with. Thank god the world isn’t made up of moody depressives.
Once we got past the introduction and warning, we actually had a very good time. He was already well on his way to collecting good stories about things that had happened to him on this vacation and he gave me a preview (you’ll have to wait for him to post them on his blog). We discussed work, relationships, ways England and the U.S. are different, how he likes games and is competitive and how I don’t like games and am resigned to losing all the time. We talked a bit about the immigration march that would be happening the next day, and we had someone take our photo with his digital camera (I was glad because my camera has died) so there’s documentation that this meeting actually happened. Our photo should show up on his blog eventually (maybe he’ll be back at his computer in another week). And at the end he gave me a box of chocolates, I guess to thank me for my initial gloom, pessimistic view on life and for letting him pay for everything. As you might also guess from reading his blog, Mick is very nice guy.
So that was the summit meeting between the White Rose Boy and the Chicana on the Edge. Nothing to be afraid of. I’m still amazed that I met a blogger face to face. Thanks for dropping by, Mick! Let’s do it again.
0 Comments