An Unexpected Lunch Companion

Written 11/05/14

Yesterday afternoon I decided to venture into Glasgow City on my own to visit the world famous Willow Tea Rooms, intending to grab a spot of lunch and read my book peacefully. I did not anticipate the hype surrounding the place; when I got there I had to line up for a table - the place was packed (albeit with mostly the over 50 crowd)! Fortunately, being a party of one I did not have to wait for too long, and was quickly offered a seat under the stipulation that I share with another patron, who I was told was a friendly frequent. I was led upstairs and seated across from a sweet looking elderly woman, happily eating her lentil soup. The lady and I, May Boyd, born Christmas Day 1928, soon got to chatting and by the end of our time together I almost shed a tear (and I have the emotional range of a brick). May was charming and inspiring - having traveled far and wide and lived a life so vast and varied. She shared with me many heartwarming anecdotes of her life both in Scotland and abroad, experiences that undoubtedly made her a liberal thinker and kept her young at heart. Not only did she encourage me to live a life less ordinary, she was also wickedly witty, making me laugh in the first few minutes after asking me where I came from:

Me: "I'm from Australia."

May: "Ah, I knew that was an Australian accent... I hate Australian accents!"

And when she then asked me about my hometown: "do you stay in the town of Perth? No.. In the outback?"

Or when she questioned me on my travels hitherto, with me answering: "yeah I've only really been to Bali outside of Australia", only to have her quickly retort with: "why would you visit an Islamic country?". 

That's what's so great about old people - they give no f*cks! And why should they? A privilege of such age and esteem should be the freedom to say whatever they please without reprimand! 

I could go on endlessly about how honoured I felt to have a one on one conversation with such an extraordinary and august woman, despite her insistently calling me 'Jenny' even though I told her that my name was Jess/Jessica at least three times, but I am aware that I already look like a bigoted travel twat. I will however include in this long-winded the last thing that she said to me before carrying along on her merry way: "don't listen to anybody else... Follow your star, not your heart because hearts can be broken. You've got to be strong Jenny."