El mundo es un pañuelo

It's been a busy summer...a week at my mother-in-law's doing a ton of work around the house, a visit to my parents' place to see my relatives from Australia, then two weddings AND an apartment move, all in the space of eight days. At some point a bigger recap is definitely in order, but two anecdotes from the wedding last weekend...

At the wedding we were seated with a fellow from Spain named David. He's a friend of the bride, who had told us she seated us together because we had so much in common, speaking Spanish, loving Spain, being named David, etc. So I ask him how he came to the US, and then what he plans on doing after he's done with his doctorate. Turns out he's considering a position with a company that does what we do. I'm always curious to see who might be working with the competition, so I ask the name of the company. He can't remember, but I'm flabbergasted when he says my boss' name. Yes, he's lined up to interview for us. "El mundo es un pañuelo", he says to me, the Spanish equivalent for "small world!". I then proceed to tell him about the rehearsal dinner...

Unlike the wedding reception, the rehearsal dinner was self-seated. Mrs. Dave and I took two seats with her friend Leon, freshman roommate of the groom, and the rest of the table is taken up by some of the groom's family friends. Steven, the gentleman seated to my right is gregarious and garrulous, and while we have our own separate conversations for part of the night, every so often he'll lean over and inject himself into whatever it is we're talking about. So I gradually learn to be on the lookout for flying conversational references, when I overhear him mentioning that his son had just bought a house in Needham.

D: "Oh, did you say Needham? I grew up there."
S: "Yup, he lives over on Damon Road."
D: "Wow...that's where I lived."
S: "No kidding?"
D: "Do you know what number?"
S: "No, I don't..."
D: "Is it up on the hill or down at the bottom?"
S: "It's down at the bottom."
Mrs. Dave: "Is there a basketball hoop in the driveway?"
S: "Yes, there is!"
D: "Is it a split-level ranch?"
S: "Yes, it is! With an addition on the back?"
D: "Yes!"
S: "What number is it?"
D: "92."
S: "That's the one!"

So...as complete random fate would have it, I ended up sitting next to the man whose son now owns the house I grew up in. The world is, indeed, a handkerchief.