The other week I had a very nice meal and some very very nice wine with some very very very nice friends at my new favourite very nice place 10 William St Paddington. 10 William St is a Wine Bar. And it is strictly a Wine Bar. I know it is strictly a Wine Bar because at the end of my meal and two glasses of the nice rose I was drinking ( I forget the name. My friend Katie was drinking it when I arrived. I really should pay more attention to these things) I asked the waiter what tea they had ( it was a school night and I was trying to be sensible). The waiter looked at me a little aghast – ‘ We are a wine bar – we don’t have tea’. He wasn’t being rude, he was just genuinely confused at how I could possibly be around such a great selection of wines and possibly be considering a pot of tea.
He had a point. Indeed, I felt he made such a good point that I dismissed my ‘it’s a school night sensibleness’ and promptly ordered another glass of whatever it was Katie was drinking.After the consumption of which I was tipsy enough to tell my friends what had happened to me before I arrived;
I had had some time to kill between finishing work and meeting friends so I killed it in a cafe. I flicked through the paper, and when I was done with that, I aimlessly scrolled through Facebook and clinked on a link a friend of mine had posted. It was an article about this woman who despite great adversity had achieved some phenomenal stuff – opening an orphanage in Indonesia and just generally being a great person.
I was tired that afternoon, and possibly stewing in a bit of self-pity, so it was the kind of story that picked me up and put my ‘first world’ worries into perspective. And don’t we all need a bit of that some times.At the end of the article there was a quote from the woman ( whose name I forget – I wonder if I can pass of my inability to pay attention to names as a literary motif?) that was something like – 'You’ve only truly lived when you have involved yourself with something bigger than yourself’. And I really liked that idea.
Infact, I liked it so much that I decided to write it down. Except I realised that I didn’t have a pen with me. Or paper. So I decided to text myself the quote. ( Don’t ask me why I didn’t use the notes function on my iphone, as I said, I was tired and I usually forget that it exists even on mental sharp afternoons).
So I did. I text the quote to myself.
Except I kind of hit 8 when I should have hit a 7. So I actually sent the text to somebody else.
I felt a bit stupid and sheepishly put the phone back in my bag.
By this time, it was time to meet my friends for dinner. I didn’t mention my accidental text message. I still didn’t tell them half an hour later when I had a text message in response saying – ‘who are you’.
And I still didn't mention it a half an hour later when they text again – ‘who are you’.
But after that third glass of wine that the waiter pretty much insisted that I drank, I told them about my afternoon silliness. And we all had a giggle.There was a suggestion that I should respond.There was a suggestion I could start just randomly texting this person at monthly intervals with other snippets of wisdom.
I didn’t. I didn’t do anything.
But I thought this…
It might be that for the person who received it, it was exactly what they needed to hear at the paritcualr point in their life. Maybe my random text message spurred them on to take on a new challenge, leave a terrible relationship, or go open their own orphanage. Maybe, for them, it was like the universe had sent them a message. Maybe in my tired Tuesday afternoon state I channelled a message from a higher source. Maybe in some small way my text message has sent them on the path to greatness.
On the other hand, it may have totally freaked them out and they have contacted their phone company to block sender on me.