Dear Dave,

Dear Dave,

I must confess. I was not telling you the truth in the San Jose airport bar. I am not a performer for Cirque du Soleil. I did not injure my leg in a practice session on the trapeze. To be honest, I am not even from Montreal. In fact, I’ve never been to Montreal. I do know it’s in Canada, though. I was a French major in college so my accent was learned.

The truth is, I was wearing the giant boot on my leg because I dislocated my middle toe. It happened in the gym doing something I’m probably too old to do – or so my daughter says. But, I couldn’t tell you that. It would have sounded silly. You would have thought I was a wimp. Really? An unattractive black velcroed boot going all the way to my knee for one little toe? A bit of an overkill, I felt. So I spiced up the story a bit: well, maybe more than a bit. But you seemed enthralled.

I did enjoy our conversation and you have a great personality for an engineer. I was riveted by your story about the misfiring of spark plugs on your car. Who knew one could wax poetic for 5 minutes on such a seemingly bland topic.

I hope you aren’t embarrassed if your friends read this blog and realize that you didn’t spend cocktail time with a famous performer.

Truth is, I write and teach tax law. Not nearly as exciting. Please have a nice life.

Lynn (Not Linette)