It's a small world

People all the time in Cincinnati will say it's a "small world" when they bump into someone in town, but people we live in a village. I love the place but it's a small town.

It's a small world when you pop into an oil shop (not Jiffy Lube) on Rue Commerce in the 15th in Paris and bump into another Midwesterner (it's the accent or lack thereof) who is Christmas shopping.

"Where you from?"
"Kentucky"
"That's NOT a Kentucky accent."
"Well Cincinnati actually just south of the river"
"I'm from Cincinnati too! I'm heading home tomorrow."
"On the 10:30am direct flight?"
"Yea!"
"See you tomorrow, I'll be your flight attendant."

That's a small world.

So we shopped for oil and then I helped her pick out some wines next door. She tried to get me upgraded to First Class, but it filled up last minute, and all the attendants knew the story. But the wine from First Class flowed for the entire flight and stemware smokes plastic any day. And thanks for the real headphones and dopp kit. See you at La Poste. First glass is on me.