Smaltimore

The overlapping networks of acquaintances in Baltimore never cease to surprise me. It happens all the fucking time that I'll meet someone who knows people I know--and often the new acquaintances turn out to be good friends with good friends or current or former coworkers who just happen to run in circles a bit off-center from our own.

Just today a woman in my department announced she was leaving her job. I knew this in advance because she had interviewed for my sister's old job, and my sister had clued me in weeks ago that my coworker was the leading candidate. That's just the way Smalltimore works.

My favorite Smalltimore story is:

Our friend Klezma was taking a painting class at MICA for fun and she met some guy there who was working on a canvas of his own. Each of them were long finished their degrees, but were taking a "refresher." They talked for a while until Klez said "Oh, shit, I forgot I have to call my friend." The guy said he was going to call his friend too, and they both dialed Cha's cell phone at the same time. The guy got through and then Cha said "hold on, I've got another call on the line" and picked up Klezma--at which point the two of them realized they were calling the same person. The other guy at the MICA class was globe-trotting artist Julio, whom I've known since 7th grade.