Phone call

Mom: So, how was your get-together?
A.: Oh, we just met up for tea this morning.
Mom: You mean you didn't go to work?
A.: I stepped out for an hour.

A family friend--whom I've never spoken to outside of family get-togethers--was in town for a day and called last night to see whether we could meet up before she left for Europe this afternoon. She--or, more likely, her mother--got my number from my mother. For the record, it's this family friend.

In any case, it was actually really nice to talk to her. I don't think I've ever talked to her for more than five minutes. We had a lot to talk about. I'm glad she called.

As we sat there, talking about a lot, I wondered how 'ethnic' either of us looked. Later this afternoon, when we were briefing our clients, one of whom I recognized visually as Russian; I wondered whether he recognized me as the same. Lately, for various reasons, more than one person has asked me where I'm from, expecting a Latin American country for an answer. I have an interesting situation--one that many people marry into, but I've achieved otherwise--in that my last name may or may not hint at foreign, but with no specificity. People are left wondering. I'm fine with that, prefer it.

But I've not gone on about this just to ramble. It brings us to the rest of tonight's conversation with my mother.

Mom: Oh, so Lydia wanted to know whether I could share your contact information with this kid who's interested in a career in international relations. He's Russian--I mean, not really--he's even less Russian than you...

A.: I'm not sure how much help I'd be, but you can give him my e-mail.
Mom: Your e-mail? What about your phone number.
A.: E-mail's easier, mom.
Mom: What would he write to you?
A.: How should I know?
Mom: He'd want to ask you about jobs in international affairs.
A.: First of all, I repeat: I don't know how much help I'd be. I can't get myself a job in international affairs. [Okay, so that's not quite true, for the moment, but that's too complicated for a conversation with my mother, and for this blog]. Second, I'm not home a lot, and it would be easier to dish out the career advice I don't have, over e-mail.
Mom: I don't know.
A.: Fine. Whatever. Give him my phone number.
Mom: I mean...
A.: I said, fine.
Mom: Okay. Bye.
A.: Bye, mom.