Think. Then Talk.
Tuesday, May 3, 2011
burghbaby

It seems like it was in a different life, but I used to spend a lot of time at my aunt and uncle's house in Steubenville. I worked for their company that sold Jaguar parts, gave tours at their car museum, and helped out whenever necessary at their restaurant. It was an odd sort of arrangement that eventually blew up in spectacular fashion (as in, a massive fight on our wedding day that ended . . . ummm . . . very badly) (that's definitely a story for a different day). But, while I was in college, I pretty much spent every possible break there. It was "home" at a time when I was essentially a homeless college kid floating from dorm room to dorm room.

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"This is my friend, Kim," my aunt introduced me to the college-age woman in the back seat of the car. It was pretty much business as usual that she had someone with her that I didn't know. Between  employees from the restaurant and students from the local college where my aunt was a board member, it just sort of happened. I was a little annoyed that I was going to have to be at least a little polite during the hour-long car ride from the airport to my aunt's house in Steubenville, but oh well. It had already been a long day of travel, so another hour of misery wasn't going to kill me.

As we made our way down some windy, rural roads, small talk filled the car. They asked about my trip. We talked about the weather forecast. There was discussion about my time working at Disney World. For some reason, I ended up being the one doing the most talking.

Have I ever mentioned that I hate talking to people I don't know? Truly. Give me a room with 200 strangers and ask me to present, and I'm fine. But small groups or one-on-one? MISERY. I don't enjoy it at all. That might be because I have a habit of just blurting things out without considering the whole situation. I'm lacking that filter thing between my brain and mouth. As in, I wasn't born with it and every time I run to Target to buy one, they seem to be sold out.

Gradually the small talk made its way around to the events of the next day. I had returned to town just in time for an event with the Steubenville visitor's bureau.  We talked about the concert that was happening in the evening. We discussed the specials the restaurant was running. We debated just how long some of the tours would end up taking. As my aunt asked if I would mind working early in the morning, I remembered that the event included a speech by the reigning Miss America.

"Just don't make me help entertain that airhead," I said.

HELLO, STRANGE PERSON IN THE BACK SEAT.

Who wasn't an airhead at all.

But who was the reigning Miss America, Kimberly Aiken.

WHOOPS.

(She accepted my 18,492,204 apologies.)

(She was totally gorgeous in person. I'm just an idiot.)

(She was really very nice and very intelligent.)

(I'm the airhead. Obviously.)

(Thanks for helping get the Yinz Team marathon peeps to their goal. You can still donate here.)

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