During the no man's land that was the year between the end of my marriage and the meeting of Eric, I dated a guy for a while who, in hindsight, I realize was a complete douche tube.
He didn't like my friends, questioned my parenting, "borrowed" money from me, and stole my extended DVD of The Two Towers. I would write those months of my life off as a complete waste, if he hadn't also introduced me to this band.
So last fall, they came to town and I dragged Eric along with me to see to see them. We snagged a table in the back so I could hide from the aforementioned douche, who was also there. As we were plotting ways that we could publicly humiliate him, Rachel Flotard from the band came up from behind me and hugged me. I was surprised and bemused, as was she, when she realized I wasn't who she thought I was.
(I'm pretty sure she mistook me for Sara, a friend and former co-worker of mine who now works in the music industry- we have the same hair from the back.)
No moral to this story. I like her. She smelled nice. And if we ever meet again we can talk about our dads. Hers was in the Local 638 Steamfitters Union. Mine was in the Local 126.