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I met her at a kind of club dinner in a hotel. She'd come with someone else, but they'd not spoken for a week. She was keen to talk to me as I was the only alternative. I'm rubbish at small talk or casual dinner conversation. So I described something I knew.
"How come you know so much about this hotel?" she asked eventually.
Probably bored and wanted to stop me.
"My mum's the manager."
I realised by this time it wasn't the time to mention that I'd known the receptionist for about fifteen years, she having been the girl next door for nine of them from when I was about six.
Anyway turned out I wasn't as boring as her companion. It was the last time she saw him.
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