jennifer

 

I think I was meant to meet her.  It was arranged angelically I suspect, and though I don't know the who-how-why of it, the timing kind-of took my breath away.

For days I had planned this run to Alligator Café for my Academy Awards evening po' boy to-go.  Jennifer was picking up fried green tomatoes and bread pudding to take to her dad who is eighty-six and has Myasthenia Gravis which is a rare, autoimmune, neuro-muscular disorder.

It was midday and that she was sitting at the bar sipping a glass of white wine while waiting on her order should have been a dead giveaway, Jennifer's spontaneous and unexpected offer-turned-insistence she buy me a glass while I also waited, is what sold me; I liked her. 

Here's the freaky part.  Last evening, Spoke and I had dinner, a long-awaited-twice-postponed dinner with two dear friends, at a similarly-styled restaurant.  The husband of the couple has Myasthenia Gravis.

I know I am led to bars; the who-how-why of that very clear.  Inexplicably, the people who have entered my life from these brief bar exchanges, while puzzling, often turn out to have purpose and rewards, enriching my life in some way.    

Maybe it's nothing more than a rare coincidence that I met Jennifer on Sunday afternoon.  Time will tell but I do hope I run into her again.  The next glass is on me.