Small World

I'm in Manhattan yesterday, getting my nails done, when the wonderfully sweet/carefully acerbic woman who regularly does my upkeep makes a comment about how I must not have had a very romantic Valentine's Day, looking as I do.

I told her my husband was working anyway.

I asked her if she heard about the lunatic running around Brooklyn, because I was pretty sure I remembered her mentioning that she lived in Brooklyn. I told her Roc and everyone else was busy trying to capture him.

"He is my friend nephew. The mother, I know. I know the family." She says something in Russian. "The mother lost her husband, and her son, forever, same day." She shook her head and sighed.

Talk about a small world.

Oh, and by the way, did you hear he's been set up? According to him...

I can't.