Let me tell you a story.
I was out for a spin on my bike, here in sunny Florida. To be precise, I was on Anna Maria Island, at a place called Ginny’s & Jane E’s (brilliant food – totally worth a visit). I’d just arrived, after a rather sweaty few hours on the bike and was more than ready for some serious rehydration and a shed-load of calories. Unfortunately, despite riding a bike for most of my life, I’ve never quite bought into the idea of NOT eating cakes (and the like) whilst out for a spin. Maybe one day I’ll manage it.
So, as I was drooling over cakes, I started chatting to the two older ladies in front of me in the queue. At first we talked about the pastries on display. Then, inevitably, considering this middle-aged Scouser was dressed in head to toe clothing that was far too tight for his age and shape, the conversation soon turned to cycling. Specifically, they wanted to know about the ‘Team PTL’ logo on my kit. Studying it, one of the ladies asked me what ‘PTL’ stood for. I proudly explained it was ‘Pure Transfer Ltd’. The ladies thought this was hilarious, explaining that where they’re from ‘PTL’ is an abbreviation of ‘Praise the Lord’!
Not being one who’s usually lost for words, I genuinely couldn’t think of what to say. So, I laughed politely and they headed off to get served. Truth is, I was feeling a bit mixed up. So, when the bubbly server looked at me with interest and asked, in a strong American accent, where I was from, I sighed expecting to hear how Americans love my accent. Sometimes I have to launch into my spiel about Dad being the 5th Beatle. Too tired to remember my usual cover story, I replied ‘Liverpool’. But, to my surprise, the server replied: “Well that’s obvious, where in Liverpool are you from?” It turns out she was the owner of the shop and her partner was from Birkenhead, on the other side of the Mersey from where I grew up. Rather sheepishly, I explained I was from Bootle. She smiled and we had a chat about Liverpool until, with the queue behind me growing, I went off to stuff my face. This moment, and the delicious cake that followed, was, by far, the best part of the day.
And so, what’s the moral to this story? I’d say there are two things to remember. The first is that other people will always see the world differently to you. Don’t expect someone else to observe a situation and react to it the way you do. Life’s not like that. Our differences are part of what makes being alive so interesting.The second lesson I took home with me that day is never to assume. The person I saw as a ‘server’ was, in fact, the owner and we had a lot more in common than I’d guessed. Sometimes first impressions can be wrong. I needed a minute to breathe, take in my surroundings and get a better understanding.
Have fun everyone.
Murph
