back in the US, back in the US, back in the USSR

Back in the city. Eating Cheerios out of a box by myself, which I think is the Mormon fanatical-grandma-type auntie equivalent of drinking alone.

The lines at Ontario were minimal, even though it was the end of a holiday weekend. I was standing in the security line, when I turned and made eye-contact with a girl behind me in the security line, and realized "hey! She was in my precalculus class in high school!" She'd lost some weight. I smiled, and she smiled back. Which is good. I wasn't sure she'd recognize me. She waved. "What a coincidence!" I said. "What are you up to?" "Oh, just flying back," she said. What is her name, what is her name, what is her name should I mention math should I mention high school I hope you don't remember my name either.

She walked ahead, and I caught up my confused family members on whom I was speaking to. "She's probably on our flight back to San Francisco," I said.

And she was. She passed me on her way to her seat, and stopped to chat a little bit.
Me: What are you doing in Ontario?
Girl: Weird look. Oh, you know. Going home. My dad dropped me off. Are you going back to Oakland?
Wait. This isn't the same girl from high school. I don't think I know this girl. How did she recognize me? Maybe I know her from somewhere else. But she looks like the girl in my math class.
Me: Oh, I'm from San Francisco
Girl: Oh, I always thought you lived in So. Cal.
Me: No, I'm...
Girl: Oh, that must have been 5, 10 years ago.
Me: Um. Yeah. Yeah. Must have been.

We didn't know each other 5 years ago.
So by this point it's clear we've never met. So I smile and turn back to my book (thanks Nelson!) and get ready for takeoff, while she finds a seat.

"She's so nice!" My family members say as she walks away. "I don't think I know her," I whisper. "What?" "I'm pretty sure we've never met in my life."

As luck would have it, there was a third and final interaction when my entire family left me with all their suitcases and piled into the bathrooms outside the gate, (Is it still gate if you're exiting?) while I stand there with our belongings. Girl walks by and we have another chat. This time I make an effort to stay away from specifics. But the end was still awkward--parting moments should look to the future, right? I'll see you at so-and-so's, let's be friends on Facebook, look for me at the ten-year reunion. But I couldn't even fake it. To make it even more awkward, there was a distinct "we should hug" moment; friends hug when they're parting, and we're kind of friends. I hesitated, though, and didn't follow through. Not because hugging a stranger would be weird, but hugging a stranger who thinks you're someone else probably would be. Plus, she can't be that close to the girl she's confusing me with, because she clearly can't differentiate her from a stranger from the airport.

I did say "it was good seeing you again," which was deceptive, but it was good seeing her again. Since the plane. Or the security line, where we met for the first time. "It was good seeing you too!" she said, as she walked off. Maybe never to be seen again. Or maybe she goes to Berkeley and I'll see her on campus, and I can explain "I thought you were someone else, but you're actually a lot nicer than the person I mistook you for," and then we'll be friends, and years later we'll laugh because our friendship was based on a lie. Or, based on a mistaken identity perpetuated by a lie.

Carter: It's funny, before this, I was just thinking "man, what are the odds that you'd see someone you know at a random airport?
Carter: Turns out, not that high.