Here’s a story you would think sprang forth from my me-focused subconscious but no, it actually happened.

My husband and I took the little lady to the park this afternoon and ran into a neighbor whom he has met but I have not. Yet we’ve exchanged waves in passing so he’s seen me a couple times. The guy says as we’re all standing there chatting, “You know, I’d met your husband but never officially met you. But you looked so familiar and I was thinking to myself, ‘Where do I know her from?'”

Punchline: He and his wife were in New Orleans last summer staying at one of the major hotels at the same time that my work’s mammoth annual convention was in town. We had delegates in most of those hotels so we were doing convention news broadcasts on all of their in-house networks. So this poor guy and his wife, after a long day in The Big Easy, would come home, put their feet up, turn on the TV and see… me.

To reiterate the noodle-blowing small worldness of all this: This dude and his wife are traveling in a city a bazillion miles away and I show up on their teevee. A week later, I move onto their street.

And yes, of course I offered to sign his baby’s head.

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