The other night, my daughter and I went to a bar that I never go to...it's been open for about a year and I think I have been there about 3 times. Ever since she has moved out, she's been trying to decide what her new local bar will be. (Seriously, she moved about 10 blocks south of here. Pretty much all of downtown Frederick is your local bar but I'll play along.) We hadn't been there for a minute and a half but, while I was talking to a friend of mine, I realized the bartender was, sort of, talking to me only he was calling me "Barbette". Which, of course I don't answer to Barbette. But I wanted a beer so I'm inclined to notice when the bartender is nearby and as soon as I turned my head to give him my order, I could see the disappointment that I was not, in fact, Barbette. And then he told me how I was not Barbette (as if I may not know that) and then decided to get on with his job of gettin' me that beer.
About 45 minutes later, I'm walking back from the bathroom and a woman at the bar yells at me, "Hey Barbette! Hi!" And then when I look right at her she says (you guessed it) "Oh, you're not Barbette, but wow! You look so much like her!" And all I can think is damn, what sort of mom names a kid Barbette? And also? Now, I have to see this woman who two separate people mistook me for in one hour long period in a bar in Downtown Frederick Maryland.
I have to now wonder about an incident that happened the previous weekend (the same day Red Beard thought I was pregnant). I went to the flower shop where I work. It was a Sunday and my friend Lisa was working the boutique side (the flower shop is not open on Sundays) and I knew she would be bored. Plus I needed her to tell me I did not, in fact look pregnant. Anyways, she had a spurt of customer activity so I hung out in case she needed me or needed to use the bathroom or what have you and this one woman came in and sort of started a conversation with me only it was kind of like a fishing expedition. She finally said, "I know I know you from somewhere..." and then rattled off all the improbable ways she could know me. Me: No, I am not in a band, No, I don't go to Hagerstown to watch bands. No, I'm pretty sure that I was not involved in that...
And then she said, "I know we will see each other again someday".
That crazy Barbette. I hope she is some smokin' hot 30 year-old babe that people keep calling "Liz". But wouldn't that mess up her day if we ever meet and she finds out Liz is a 50 year-old mother of two? Yeah, not likely, but this is my blog so I get to make up that ending.
I too, would like to see this mysterious Barbette! And yes, weird, weird name!
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