Years ago I booked a week vacation for me and my then-girlfriend at a B&B in a nearby touristy town. 60-ish miles from me and 400 from her. Imagine our surprise when we were hauling luggage in and one of her co-workers pull up and starts unloading as well. He was in town for some sort of music festival/contest.
We all worked for the same company so I recognized him from meetings. We all worked in IT.
Let me tell the rest of the story: you all wanted to have a vacation to forget all that shit from work, and then you ended up sitting together and talking about nothing else but the company every night at the bar. 
I traded in my blue 2006 Civic SI in 2018 (it was having serious clutch and engine issues) for a 2013 version (next gen.), paint on the hood was degrading as well…
Last fall I idly wondered how my old car was doing. A bit later that afternoon I was heading home, when at a stop light a blue 2006-era Civic SI blasted out of the side street. I managed to catch up to it at the next light, and noticed that the hood had degraded in exactly the same way that mine had. I tried to get the attention of the driver, to no avail…? But when I peeled off to the right for home 3 blocks later I heard him rev the thing to the redline at the stop light.
When my family would visit my grandparents’ farm when I was a kid I used to love exploring all the derelict vehicles parked around their fields. On one of those visits I looked inside a 1950s era Dodge truck, and noticed the key still in the ignition. I pulled the key out and discovered it was actually a key from a Studebaker. (I kept that key as a souvenir and actually still have it; I doubt Grandpa ever knew it was gone).
Anyway, flash forward to recent times, I asked about that key on a car forum and how it could start a Dodge truck. I was told that in those days all the smaller car companies* bought their ignition locks from the same third party, and they all shared the same relatively small set of keys. So one possible explanation was that the original key got lost, and they found a Studebaker key that happened to work. Although another possibility was that the lock was so worn out literally any key would work.
*While considered one of the “big three”, Chrysler was always a distant third behind GM and Ford.
My junior year in high school, I bought a nine year old 1979 Ford LTD from a woman in a private party sale. The next winter, I was slowing on a road to make a 90 degree right hand turn onto a side street. There was a newer Toyota pickup sitting at the stop sign on the side street, waiting to pull onto the road I was on. The roads were snow covered, and slippery. As I made the turn, the front tires slipped and I slightly t-boned the truck sitting at the stop sign. It was a low speed event. I didn’t even spill the styrofoam coffee cup I had sitting on the dashboard, wedged against the windshield. No damage to my car, though there was a dent in the door of the pickup truck. As we got out, I recognized the truck driver as the woman I had bought the LTD from months earlier. She laughed out loud and said, “I knew that f**king car would come back to haunt me!”
Heh, when I was 16-17 I had a '75 Ranchero that had been quite hotrodded before I got it, and got a little more help while I had it. It was boat flake metallic purple with a bondo patch flaking off the tailgate, aftermarket intake and carb, aftermarket cam, off brand Cragar S/S copies, headers and straight exhaust. It was hard to mistake that truck for any other, it was loud in every way. After owning it for a year, I sold it for the same price I bought it.
Several years later when I was a junior in college, I see that unmistakable truck/ute/open air station wagon blaze down a street about 45 miles north of where I sold it. I was completely amazed it was still on the road. When I had it, it had enough blow by that it would shoot the dipstick out of its tube and spray some oil on the underside of the hood if you took it above 5500 RPM or so. Since the transmission wouldn’t shift out of first unless you lifted and since that engine breathed really well and wanted to rev, that was easy to do.
So, basically it needed an engine and transmission rebuild when I sold it several years before, but here it was tearing down the streets of my college town. They almost certainly must have done both to it, because it sure seemed faster than when I owned it. The car I was chasing it in wasn’t fast enough to keep up with it so I could ask its new owner, but it was certainly my old truck. Not too many purple Rancheros out there that sound like a stock car with a chipping bondo patch on the tailgate. Hope they fixed the A-arm that was all wallored out because of a bad bushing.
If you’re still out there, Long May You Run.
From a thread a couple of years ago.
My best one, happened about 3 years ago. After looking at the flat tire on my wheel barrel for over 10 years I decided to go buy one. I get in the car and drive less than 1/2 block down the alley and there is a brand-new tire lying next to a trash can.
I tried to sell a rusting wb with a flat tire on FBM. No not delivering. Iirc we scrapped it
That one is really good. When you sell a used car locally there may be a fairly good chance you’ll see it in the area again, but often we probably don’t notice, especially if it’s a gray sedan like all the others. It’s the triggering events that make these more unlikely coincidences. Seeing the car doesn’t mean much, getting hit by it is so much more memorable.
Coincidence, or genetic like happens to separated twins? – maybe you folks have a clue.
Older relatives told me our family had split 4-5 generations back, and we had kinfolk living somewhere in the north western part of the US. Something about two brothers deciding to separate and go their own way, but no one was sure. We recently re-discovered them, due to an unfortunate event and the resulting news stories. Since our surname is pretty unusual it’s almost certainly our distant relatives.
The weird part is, the first names used in one of “our” families matches the first names in “their” family very closely. The dads and two kids in the respective families have identical first names. The mom’s name is very similar. No one is aware of any contact with them since the split, so it’s a really odd coincidence to have this many people with the same first/last name, in two separate families.
Maybe these names have a family tradition that dates older than the split, and both branches of the family kept it?
I have two.
Many years ago, about a year after I graduated from college, I was driving from the city I was living in to the city where my parents lived.
At the halfway point, I decided to stop for lunch. I pulled off at the exit for a small college town and I remember thinking “This is where Jan (my best friend in middle school) went to college”, and I may have been thinking of her as I pulled into the fast food place that had been our favorite as young teens.
I get in line and I notice the couple in front of me. It was Jan and her new husband. They had been traveling in the opposite direction and had stopped for lunch. We had lunch together and enjoyed some nice conversation.
The other one
I was living in Queens, working on construction projects, mostly in Manhattan. I was running late for a meeting with the electrical contractors on the project and decided to take a taxi. I walked out of my apartment building and raised my hand to hail a cab when a van pulls over. I hear my name called and it’s the contractors I was scheduled to meet with, on their way to meet with me at the Manhattan construction site. They gave me a ride.
It’s possible it goes way back, and I just never knew about it. But no one else in my extended family has the father and kid names. The mom’s name does exist elsewhere though.
There was a fight in the Kroger parking lot. When I went inside New Edition’s “Cool It Now” was playing on the store music service.
Ha! 
Here’s a small one that happened to me, and I think it must be really random.
We’ve lived in this house for almost 20 years. Because we don’t wear shoes in the house, early on I made a shoe storage cubby sort of thing for the back door, focusing on shoes for gardening, boots, and so on. It was no particular width, just about the width to accommodate 2 pairs of shoes, and high enough to fit 4 pairs of shoes. The cubby used to sit next to the back door, with nothing in particular beside it.
About 11 years ago, we completely remodeled this level of the house, which among a lot of other things involved moving the back door and the picture window in that room to completely new locations in the back wall. During the remodel, all of the furniture and fittings were in storage, including the cubby. At one point, the contractor had me decide on a style and size of the window and door casings, which I did, they were duly installed, the remodeling was finished, and we moved the furniture back in.
At which point I found that this shoe storage cubby fits exactly, to the millimeter, between the casing for the door and the casing for the picture window, and the legs are high enough that it can sit flush to the wall and not run into the floor molding. All I had to do was re-paint it to match the new casing color and it looks like it was made as part of the remodel.
This is utterly inconsequential but still weird.
My late husband and I moved to the country in 1992. We really bonded with Bob & Carol, the couple we bought the house from. Carol’s best friend Alice also lived in the country, about a mile from our new house. Bob & Carol moved out of town and we sort of inherited Alice and her boyfriend Ted as friends. We didn’t have the opportunity to socialize much, but we liked them a lot and got along great. This was before email and texting, so staying in touch had to be quite intentional. Alice and I did not talk on the phone or exchange presents or cards or casseroles or anything like that.
One day I was at a gift shop in San Antonio and saw a cute refrigerator magnet shaped like a traditional holy-card type of angel. On a whim, I bought it. Alice’s little house was charmingly decorated in a “shabby chic” cottage style, and I knew she would like the angel to go with the many colorful magnets on her fridge. On the way home, I swung by her house and left the magnet in her mailbox with a note (Alice was still at work).
When I got to my house five minutes later, I opened the mailbox to get out my mail and there was an envelope with a note from Alice. In it was a refrigerator magnet shaped like an angel. This one was artsier than the one I gave her, but an angel nonetheless. 
<Cue Twilight Zone music>
I still have mine:
I was building a big field fence around the property with Utility Poles as big sturdy stalls. I just randomly dug holes and dropped them in on either side of the driveway.
Sometime later, in town was a storage facility that was being torn down. I went and salvaged the big chainlink gate.
It fit the opening of my driveway to the inch.
make that 4:
My father had a Lancia - and then bought a Alfa Romeo - there was a little overlap (2-3 days?) where he had both cars.
FOBs were not a thing then, but he eventually confused the keys and surely enough the key of car-A opened car-B and vice versa …
both italian cars from the 1980ies - so it does make that more “probable” I guess