And to Prove My Point

Remember a few weeks ago when I was talking about running into a fellow nail tech on the street? Well, just a few days ago a story came down the family grapevine that made me want to run into the salon where that tech works, jump up and down, and triumphantly shout, "SO THERE!"

Rumors of my rampant ego are highly exaggerated. (cough cough)

So it turns out that my grandmother — who is 88 years old and as ornery as a person should be allowed to get — has business with a company in Florida. At least, the woman she deals with is in Florida. Recently, Grandma was talking to this woman in Florida — it probably started off as business, but in the way that 88-year-old women are wont to do, digressed into a long and rambling speech about whatever she felt was relevant. Apparently that included her granddaughter, Maggie.

Well, Monica (in Florida) turns out to be pretty quick. Seeing as how my last name is the same as my grandmother's, she put the "Maggie" and the "Franklin" together and asked my grandmother if her granddaughter does nails?

Turns out, this lady all the way across the country in Florida — who works for some sort of mineral company — knows who I am and visits my website on a regular basis.

Now that is pretty freakin’ cool. But it does nothing to quell those pesky rumors about my ego.