In an unconscious way, I seemed to encourage people to confide in me. I’d always delighted in asking folks questions. Could I help it if they answered me? Recently, I’ve heard three doozies. See links below for all 3.
These three unsolicited revelations shocked me and caught me delightfully unaware each time. But, upon reflection, I admitted to myself, when I first met someone, after I’d established an initial rapport, I felt free to ask questions about their children, parents, where they lived. And maybe they intuitively knew how much I would savor their delectable details...
#2 – Posers
Several days later, a woman in her fifties, an artist, asked me for a tour of the art show. She wanted photos of herself with paintings and sculptures for her Instagram account. Happy to help her, I merrily traipsed through the exhibit, posing and laughing.
Sadly, this museum property, a historical home with manicured acreage, was for sale on the real estate market for $23 million. At the end of the tour, the woman unexpectedly told me her father was a billionaire. My eyes popped. In my experience, Americans were more private about their finances than their sex lives. “Twenty-three million would be chump-change for him,” she remarked. “But he’s already so busy with other projects, I’ll have to persuade him to buy it.” She frowned, as if concentrating on which arguments had the best chance.
“Wow,” I said, stunned, “that would be great. I’ll give him a tour if he wants to look it over.” I haven’t heard from her yet. Perhaps there was no right approach.