Remember a couple of years ago when I told you about the phenomenon in my life in which total strangers start disclosing personal details about their lives to me? Remember how I said I thought I just had "one of those faces?"
Apparently, it's not my face.
This evening, I called Capital One to close a credit card account that has been lingering for too long with a zero balance, adding nothing to my life but another opportunity for identity theft. The woman who answered the phone was warm and professional, asked me all the right questions, and gave me the rationale for why I might want to consider hanging on to that card and earning rewards, rewards, rewards.
Somewhere between the allure of earning rewards and the "have a nice day," I also learned that she lived in central Texas, where winters are warm and summers are hot, but where it is likely to be in the 30's this week. I learned that her fiance had returned from Iraq to a base in Louisiana, but that his return to Texas had been threatened by the freak snow storm that blanketed the southern states last week. The idea that he could be so close and still not be able to get home was, to say the least, difficult for her to manage.
The ending was happy, though. They've been reunited. And my account has been closed.
And, apparently - even if I never show my face - whatever it is? I've still got it.