As she started to look at my skin, she commented on the fact that I have no lines. I liked her immediately and then asked her, why I would, since I'm only 20! She laughed, a little unsure, but then realised that I was joking.
I commented on the flute music that was playing and why everyone seems to think it's soothing. It doesn't soothe me. It pierces something important in my brain. She offered to change it and then we forgot. She marked on my card not to play the flute music when I'm in.
We got talking about music and she told me that her mother is quite a good singer, "not professional or anything, but she sings at family functions".
I asked her if she's seen the TV show, "Nashville" and recommended it. She asked me if I watch "regular TV" and I said that I quite like "The Voice". We talked about the elegance of Kylie Minogue, the pure handsome masculinity of Ricky Martin and the eccentricity of Will.i.am. I can't remember what we said about Joel.
"Did you know there's a kids' version coming out?" Amy asked me.
Of course. This got me talking about Young Talent Time and how I wanted to BE Tina Arena.
Amy went quiet.
"I remember when Tina came on as a contestant. She was about 11 years old and was dressed like Pocahontas. She sang "Money, Money, Money" by ABBA. I thought she was fantastic. I wanted to be Tina Arena."
Any idea that I was only 20, was banished from Amy's thoughts.
We talked some more about my skin and I said that I wish I didn't have enlarged pores on my nose. This got me thinking about a girl at school who had had the most impressive crop of blackheads on her face.
I burst out laughing. "What, back in the olden days?" I asked.
She told me that she didn't mean to offend me, she was just wondering.
I told her I wasn't offended, just amused about the picture she must have of life and skin care late last century. Surely we all scrubbed ourselves with carbolic soap and used methylated spirits as a skin toner, before flaying ourselves with steel wool if the acne was particularly bad.
To help her get over her embarrassment, I asked her where her mother learned to sing.
Amy told me her mother had been a nun from the age of 18 to 29. She was posted to Bourke in outback New South Wales as a school teacher and met Amy's father there.
I'd love to hear the rest of the story some time. I'd like to meet Amy's mother. Her daughter is lovely.