Last night, the Fool and I went to the Irish session at the Grafton. He was fiddling; I was hanging out with my friend Maura, talking and knitting a sock. We were sitting in the big picture windowsill listening to the music when this guy came up to ask what I was doing.
(Side note: The last time this happened, the guy was a software engineer from Poughkeepsie who was so mortified when he discovered I was married that he introduced himself to the Fool and apologized for hitting on me. So Maura and the Fool and I always anticipate high hilarity from guys in bars who want to talk about knitting.)
Instead, it turned out that this guy was himself a knitter, who had just finished his first project, a scarf, for his mom, for Christmas. She loved it, and so did he.
I told him about the new men's knitting group, and pulled the Fool out of the fiddle melee to meet him.
The conversation went sort of like this.
GUY: So, wow, what do you do at knitting club? (side note: I love how this comes out sounding kinda like "fight club.")
FOOL: Well, we sit around and knit and talk. About knitting and stuff.
GUY: Cool! But I'm not sure what I want to knit next ... wait, I think I want to learn how to do that! (points to my socks.)
E-mails were exchanged, and perhaps you'll be hearing more about him later.
Then I learned I don't get a recruitment bonus.
Debate continues in the household about whether to sign on to the Yarn Harlot's 2006 Knitting Olympics. Me, I'd finish Eris if I did it, and I'm not saying I will or won't .... The Fool? That's another story entirely.