It's a small world

So I walk out of the supermarket and this voice calls “Excuse me”

I turn around, this guy asks me “Are you chowder?” (insert real name)

“recognise me?”
“erm no, sorry”
“Think back 30 years”
“holy batshit, it’s Rob Byrne”
“it sure is”

This is a guy I worked with over 30 years ago and he recognised me after all that time.

Amazing :cool:

Last year, while living in Italy, I ran into a guy I worked with in Hawaii!! It had been about 6 years since we had worked together. What are the odds!? No really, can someone compute the odds?

We ran into the woman who cuts my husband’s hair, and her husband, on the deck of an aircraft carrier we were touring in Charleston, SC, a distance of about 600 miles from home.

Since it’s a tourist distination, I guess it’s not THAT surprising. We were surprised anyway.

Many years ago my wife and myself were having a beer in Corfu.

Around the corner comes Alan O’Brien and his wife, they lived 4 doors away from us and wanted to team up for the rest of the holiday.

No thanks Alan, we’ve come hundreds of miles to meet other people, we can see you anytime

…but I wouldn’t want to paint it. :smiley:

I can find someone I know in an away from home airport about 50% of the time.

My mum bumped into an ex-nextdoor-neighbor coming out of an event at (I think) the Edinburgh festival (something close to that anyway)

The interesting thing about this story? It was an ex-neighbor…from a few years back…that we’d had no intervening contact with…from Melbourne.

I also, about ten years after leaving school (in Melbourne) ended up in a train ticket queue one day thinking “hmmm - something familiar about that woman in front of me”. Yep - an old classmate. In Oxford.

A girlfriend and I went to the air show at NAS (now MCAS) Miramar back in the '80s. I noted a distinctive tail standing high in the collection of aircraft and it was indeed a VC-10K. G/F had been to England several years prior and had made friends with members of 101 Squadron. Turns out that this VC-10K was from 101 Squadron and she knew the crew – who had made a last-minute decision to come to Miramar instead of a different air show. (Or they added Miramar to their trip.) We were invited aboard after the show. An older man came aboard as well. He checked a data sheet on a bulkhead and he had piloted this very aircraft when it was in commercial service with South African Airlines. A girl came aboard who looked familiar. I said hello and, ‘Ridley Mission Control?’ She said, ‘Yes! Yellow Porsche?’ Yup. We had worked in the same building at Edwards AFB and had seen each other frequently. She’d come to Miramar on a whim.

So this aircraft had to have been a commercial airliner when the older man flew it. Then it had to be transfered to the RAF’s 101 Squadron where my g/f hung out with the crew. Then the crew had to decide to visit Miramar. The girl from Ridley had to decide to go to the air show, also on a whim. And we all had to meet on the same day. Quite a nice set of coincidences.

I ran into my former neighbor at midnight in the Miami airport as she was on her way to a tour in the Peace Corps and I was heading to Brazil.

I said “Howdy neighbor!”

We moved to the UK in 2001, to a small village near Winchester, and started staying with my wifes brother. We signed on to our local doctors surgery, and were told that we would be given an NZ doctor.


So my wife goes to see her. And spend the whole session wondering why she felt that the doctor was familiar.

It transpired that our new doctor, both of us half way round the world, worked with my wifes mother back in our home city in NZ.

It doesn’t get much smaller than that. :wink:


I ran into an ex-boyfriend after 25 years. His first question: “So why didn’t you call me.”

The world isn’t small, it’s tiny. An army pal of mine owns and upscale furniture/interior decorating business in Torrrance, CA. Years ago my son found a kitten alongside the road. He picked it up and, being in his hot-rod phase, named it Iskandarian after a line of camshafts for souping up engines.

On day we were visiting my army friends and somehow the subject of their cat’s name came up so I told them about Iskandarian and mentioned that it is the name of a company that makes camshafts.

“Yes, I know, the owner is a customer of ours.”

About three years ago I got a strange phone call on my brothers phone from a friend I hadn’t heard from in 15 years.

This friend and I have known each other since kindergarten and dated off and on through grade school to high school until he just disappeared one day.

After the initial shock of hearing from him and making sure it wasn’t someone pulling my leg my first question was…how come you never took me to any dances?

So jali why didn’t you call him?

I attended my grandmother’s funeral earlier this week. Grandma lived most of her life in Small Town, U.S. A., so it’s not terribly surprising that the funeral director attended school with my uncle, or various other connections that were made.

But we were still surprised when we found out that the minister, only with this church for a couple of months, knew my grandfather’s brother’s significant other from a previous church.

My wife and I were leaving on vacation about 10 years ago and we ran into our children’s Kindergarten teacher and husband in the departure lounge. Not too unusual.
Then there was this time I was working at my office in the SF Bay area. I decided to stay over Friday night and leave for home at O’dark:30 Saturday AM.
So I get up Sat AM and decide to hit the all night diner next to the hotel for a bite before I hit the road.
I get talking to the waitress. She finds out I am from LA. She used to live there.
Where? Highland Park. I used to live on Mt. Washington (right next door)
Then she says her husband lived on Mt. Washington. Oh, which street? She names the street I grew up on. :eek: What address? She names it. :eek: I lived 3 doors up the street, and remember the house being built. I played with her husband when we were both kids. :eek: :eek:
But wait there is more.
Then she says that her father owned a jewelery store in Highland Park on Figueroa St. Oh, I said which one, where? (there were several small jewelry stores on Fig)
On the corner of Ave 57, she replied. Wait I said, the South West corner? Yeah she said. I showed her my wedding ring. My wife and I got our rings there. :eek:

It’s starting to get creepy. Almost every morning I see this guy as I walk out to my car. Turns out it’s my neighbor and he’s going to his car too! Seriously, what are the chances?

You have a stalker, be very careful what you do next

When my wife and I were living in Beirut, we were going into an ironmonger to have him make a table for us. Inside, with all his bodyguards, was a US embassy employee. We struck up a conversation with him, and it turned out his brother owned the coffee shop in Salem, Virginia, where my wife worked during grad school.

Oh, I forgot a weirder one. When I was a lad of about 12, I went to summer camp in Texas. At the end of the session, they would bring the girls over from the girls’ camp across the lake and have a dance. I met this girl, Louisa, who turned out, strangely, to live on the same street as I in Dallas, just a few blocks down. I never looked her up when I got back to Dallas, and there the matter rested (so I thought).

Fast forward several years. I am attending college at an all-male school in Virginia. Women from neighboring women’s colleges come over on the weekends. At a football game one weekend, I am introduced to a woman named…wait for it…Louisa. I get a funny feeling. I ask here where she’s from, and she replies that she’s from Dallas. Yep; it’s the same one from summer camp when I was 12. She had the hots for one of my friends, so I didn’t ask her out, but it was a very strange thing.

I lived in Minneapolis for three years and left without a backward glance.

25 years later I was in the NYC Virgin Records and heard someone remark “That woman looks like someone I use to know. But she would be about twenty years older.” When the speaker heard me talking his mouth fell open. “Excuse me, this is going to sound stranger, but are you related to (name I used in Minneapolis)”

“I am not related to her. I am her.”

We went out to eat and talk of old times.

I was with my then wife at a little bed and breakfast in a small town in Italy (Chianti.) One evening we were talking with an older couple. They said that they were from Seattle. My wife went to college in Seattle. Eventually they figured out that their daughter went to college with my wife, they were good friends and my wife even had spent one Thanksgiving with them fifteen years earlier.

I was at a Grateful Dead concert in Oakland. I had gotten into the Colosseum relatively early was saving some seats for my friends who would be coming in later. The guy next to me was doing the same. At one point the guy next to me tells me that I look familiar and asks me if I’m <my real name>. I stare at him for a few seconds and realize that he’s Howie, a guy who was a good pal in Elementary School. He moved away when I was 12 and I hadn’t seen him in over 20 years.