"I'm in Town for a Murder Investigation, But I Can't Talk About That"

Weirdo, or messenger of God?

The other day, I was having supper at the Cavalier with Jimbo, the Sprout, and Auntie Bean. Just a nice family meal. There was a woman at the next table dining alone. I noticed her because she was chatting very familiarly with the waitresses, smiled benevolently at us a few times, and drank three glasses of wine with her meal in the short time we were sitting there.

Jimbo took Sprout to the bathroom, and Auntie Bean decided to wait for us outside. I finished the last bite of my food alone and got the bill sent over. When the server brought it, she said, "The lady at the next table paid for your son's meal, and that's why it is not on there."

I graciously said, "That was kind of you," to the woman, and this conversation ensued:

Her: "I was drawn to your son because of his fine manners and his spirit!"

Me: "Uh, he is very charming, yes."

Her: "I am a forensic psychologist, and I study people. I'm in town for a murder investigation but I can't talk about that... (imagine this line delivered with a grandiose mysteriousness like Bette Davis in film noir). I see something very special in your son's future."

Me: "Oh. Um. Well, he's a pretty good negotiator too, so perhaps he'll be a United Nations arbitrator or something. That would be pretty cool. Unless they squash his spirit in school, of course; he does talk non-stop."

Her: (With palpable wisdom. Like Yoda.) "I could see how one might want to curb his spirit, but I would encourage you to nurture it. He really has some special qualities."

Me: "Okay, well thanks again.... Goodbye!"

So. Drunk lonely rich woman who likes to pretend? Expatriate forensic psychologist murder investigator? Messenger of God?

Ein Engel geht vorbei.