I spent Saturday night in Brooklyn with a friend. There was a new restaurant in her neighborhood that she wanted to try and then we stopped by a local watering hole. We were sitting at the bar (there was nowhere else really) when a big, bald man from Minnesota sat down next to us. He ordered a martini and raised his glass to us. “To Saturday night at the Royale,” he said. We smiled politely and engaged in small talk before going back to our conversation. Before too long, he took out a notepad but we didn’t really think much of it until he produced an origami crane. This then spurred some additional small talk before we returned to our initial conversation. Finally, he said, “Did I hear you say that you’re both writers?”
Indeed he did.
So…he asked what kind of writing we do which prompted a brief discussion of financial journalism before he asked what it is we’d really like to do. I mentioned food. He said he’d met Julia Child once and then expounded upon the life and times of Ms. Child.
“Do you know what branch of the service she was in?” he asked us. We guessed the Army but we really had no idea.
I can’t remember the exact acronym (OSI?), but he said whatever branch she was in was a precursor to the CIA.
“Ah,” we said…and smiled and nodded.
“That tricky bitch,” my friend added.