More weirdness that is my life
Oct. 16th, 2002 12:03 pmI work in Kendall Square, Cambridge, home of - among many other things - MIT. The part of Kendall Square that I work in is often populated by the MIT community, both students and faculty/staff. And I know a number of people who work in Kendall Square, so it's not unusual for me to run into people (my office is within sight line of the post office, a number of popular restaurants, and the T stop, so it's an area that draws large amounts of foot traffic).
On the day after Labor Day, I was running late to work (which, for me, means that I emerged from the T at about 7:45 instead of 7:25) and happened to run into Joe Haldeman - author of The Forever War and other award-winning works - who teaches two courses per fall semester at MIT. We made polite noises at each other - I was barely awake and running late; he'd just gotten back at 1 AM from the WorldCon in San Jose and was only up because it was Reg Day at MIT - and then I wandered off to work. I mentioned the encounter to MAB when I got home, and that reminded him that we'd been hoping to schedule a dinner with Joe and his wife, Gay. But then the season of Jewish holidays hit and life got too chaotic to actually schedule anything social.
Cut to last week Tuesday. I was sitting in front of the Au Bon Pain, in my usual spot, waiting for![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
gem225 to arrive for our weekly get-together (I'm usually early, as I leave extra time to get waylaid on my way out of my office) when a shadow falls over the book I'm reading. I look up and it's Gay Haldeman. We mutually apologize for not having scheduled dinner together yet, and I make a note in my calendar to remind myself to talk to MAB about actually scheduling something. That night, MAB calls Gay and we schedule dinner. And that dinner was last night.
Because three of the four of us were all coming from the same location (Kendall Square), we arranged that we'd meet the Haldemans in front of that ever-popular Au Bon Pain and then we'd take my regular commute home (or, as I put it to MAB, "They followed me home; can we keep them?"). MAB came and met me at Kendall, and then we met up with the Haldemans and - after a brief stop at Nini's Corner in Harvard Square - took them to dinner at one of the kosher restaurants in our neighborhood.
It was a lovely evening of fun conversation with people we don't have nearly enough opportunities to see, and I was struck by the weirdness of the combination of place and company. What I mean is, there we were, in a restaurant that MAB and I frequent sufficiently that we know all the servers by name (and some of them even know our usual drink orders), running into friends from the Jewish community, dining with friends of ours who are known widely in the science fiction community. It's that weird dichotomy thing again. And I know I should be used to it, but I don't know if I ever will be.
My social circles intersect enough already without me actively bringing them into contact with each other (I'm reminded of an anecdote from a work friend of mine - she was at a get-together with friends from her synagogue; my name was mentioned in passing and all but one person in the room knew who I was); when, for instance, our Jewish community friends are introduced to our science fiction friends, it closes the circles a bit more. And I think it's wonderful. But at the same time, it's a bit freaky.
On the day after Labor Day, I was running late to work (which, for me, means that I emerged from the T at about 7:45 instead of 7:25) and happened to run into Joe Haldeman - author of The Forever War and other award-winning works - who teaches two courses per fall semester at MIT. We made polite noises at each other - I was barely awake and running late; he'd just gotten back at 1 AM from the WorldCon in San Jose and was only up because it was Reg Day at MIT - and then I wandered off to work. I mentioned the encounter to MAB when I got home, and that reminded him that we'd been hoping to schedule a dinner with Joe and his wife, Gay. But then the season of Jewish holidays hit and life got too chaotic to actually schedule anything social.
Cut to last week Tuesday. I was sitting in front of the Au Bon Pain, in my usual spot, waiting for
gem225 to arrive for our weekly get-together (I'm usually early, as I leave extra time to get waylaid on my way out of my office) when a shadow falls over the book I'm reading. I look up and it's Gay Haldeman. We mutually apologize for not having scheduled dinner together yet, and I make a note in my calendar to remind myself to talk to MAB about actually scheduling something. That night, MAB calls Gay and we schedule dinner. And that dinner was last night.Because three of the four of us were all coming from the same location (Kendall Square), we arranged that we'd meet the Haldemans in front of that ever-popular Au Bon Pain and then we'd take my regular commute home (or, as I put it to MAB, "They followed me home; can we keep them?"). MAB came and met me at Kendall, and then we met up with the Haldemans and - after a brief stop at Nini's Corner in Harvard Square - took them to dinner at one of the kosher restaurants in our neighborhood.
It was a lovely evening of fun conversation with people we don't have nearly enough opportunities to see, and I was struck by the weirdness of the combination of place and company. What I mean is, there we were, in a restaurant that MAB and I frequent sufficiently that we know all the servers by name (and some of them even know our usual drink orders), running into friends from the Jewish community, dining with friends of ours who are known widely in the science fiction community. It's that weird dichotomy thing again. And I know I should be used to it, but I don't know if I ever will be.
My social circles intersect enough already without me actively bringing them into contact with each other (I'm reminded of an anecdote from a work friend of mine - she was at a get-together with friends from her synagogue; my name was mentioned in passing and all but one person in the room knew who I was); when, for instance, our Jewish community friends are introduced to our science fiction friends, it closes the circles a bit more. And I think it's wonderful. But at the same time, it's a bit freaky.
