Back in the 90s, a woman knocked on my door one afternoon. She accused me of having an affair with her husband. I told her I was pretty sure I wasn’t. She handed me a matchbook with my name and phone number on it and showed me a picture of a creepy looking guy. I told her that if I was having an affair with someone, it sure as hell wouldn’t be that guy and shut the door in her face. It was weird because I had just moved the day before so obviously she was following me. I was surprised that someone else had my name since it isn’t a common name. Aurora had gotten my number from the phone book. For several months after that, I would get calls from guys who said they had met me at a club and wanted to get together. It pissed me off that she was using my phone number to deflect unwanted attention.
But it got weirder. A year or so later, her name was in the paper when she was involved in a scandal. “Exotic dancer, Aurora Maire.” That was awesome./s My mother said some of her church friends had asked if that woman was me which just cracked me up. I mean really, they thought I became a stripper?! Jokes were made at my expense. A few men called offering their “help”. I don’t know what that meant, I hung up on them.
Over the next several years, I got phone calls from collection agencies and once from a prison looking for her to give her some lab results. I can’t remember now how I found out that she had moved to Texas. The daughter she had given up called me once looking for her. I got a call late one night from someone who said “this is your mother” and I said “no you’re not” and it took me awhile to convince her she was wrong. I do wonder what ever happened to her. Nothing good I imagine.
Anyone else have stories about “that’s not me”?