I spoke to another Shire resident this evening for something
like an hour. (My lack of association with Shire residents must surely be the
stuff of legend by now. Ten minutes is usually the maximum I can tolerate, and
even then only if it serves the cause of politeness.) And what’s really odd is
that I initiated the conversation for reasons which would be improper to
reveal. Rest assured, however, that they were entirely pure, proper, and in
accordance with my INFJ personality type.
My only error was that I failed to ask the lady’s name (and she mine), but maybe that won’t matter. Maybe I will never speak to her again. It will all depend on whether my gut instinct convinces me that it will be to her benefit. (I have been known to be wrong in such matters.)
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