… how small is it, Mir?
Well, lemme tell ya.
My town is so small, I just had the following experience:
Answering Machine: Hi Mir, this is Friend You Haven’t Spoken With For A While, we were wondering if Chickadee would like to come home on the bus with Daughter tomorrow and play. Let me know.
Me: Chickie, do you want to go?
Chickadee: Yes! Yes! Please!
Me: Okay. *dialing phone*
Me: Hi, it’s Mir, I got your message.
FYHSWFAW: Oh, hey! Good!
Me: So, thanks, Chickadee would love to come over, that’ll be great. What time should I come get her?
FYHSWFAW: Oh, I don’t know, what works for you–
Me: I can come whenever–
FYHSWFAW: –I know you’ve got your big date tomorrow, so this way you don’t have to rush off to meet the bus!
Me: Oh, that’s not a problem, we’re only going to lun–
*crickets chirp loudly, albeit perhaps only in my mind*
Me: Wait. No. Wait. How do you know I have a date tomorrow??
FYHSWFAW: Oh, doesn’t everyone know? You’re the talk of the town!
Me: Um, what??
FYHSWFAW: Oh, relax. You’re only the talk of our street. Honest.
FYHSWFAW: The talk of the bus stop, you might say. I’m sure there are a few people who don’t know, though.
Me: Oh. my. God.
FYHSWFAW: No! Don’t be upset! We’re all really excited!
Me: Must go. Put head. In oven.
Note to self: Small town, neighborhood party, meeting someone’s brother-in-law? Good. Small town, neighborhood party, entire neighborhood discussing said meeting of self and aforementioned brother-in-law? Bad.