Sometimes a coincidence is so good you have to share one that rightfully belongs to someone else.

I have broken form to bring you this worthy installment.  In which Tig Notaro milks a series of chance meetings with pop/soul diva, Taylor Dane.

They put my drawing on TV

In an episode of Mad Men, hung on the blackboard at Betty Draper's Weight Watcher's meeting, I see an out-of-focus drawing that looks uncannily like an ink drawing I made years ago based on a recurring dream I had as a small child.  I wander down a garden path and enter into a small building.  Along the back wall are two portals.  Below is a hand holding plate of cherry pie.  Above is a snarling wolf.  If you try to reach for the pie, the wolf will bite your hand.

What is my dream drawing doing at Betty Draper's Weight Watcher's meeting?

Blink

I've moved back to LA from NYC and I haven't seen my friend Maxine for a few months.  She comes out to the West Coast and drops by to see me.  When I open the door, we look at each other and just start laughing.

We're wearing the exact same outfits that we were wearing the last time we saw each other in New York.

It's as if we'd blinked and were teleported to the other coast and no time had passed.  

A preponderance of birthdays

My mother was born on March 26th.

My boyfriend in college was born on March 26th.

My friend from the dance department was born on March 26th.

Then there was the guy I met at the Dream Syndicate show who was born on March 26th.

Then there was this paralegal in the law firm where I worked who I used to send saltines to in the inter-office mail who was born on March 26th.

Then there was this guy in NYC who gave me his number and I didn't call for a few weeks and then realized I had his number and called him around 10 o'clock one night.  He said "Ya know, it's my birthday, and you're the first person to give me a call."  It was March 26th.

Each of these relationships had elements of complexity and coincidence that went beyond the scope of this blog and beyond their shared birthdays.

Dead or alive?

I'm a kid.  I spend the night at my cousin's house and the next day we end up at some kind of community center.  I don't remember how the conversation gets started, but we end up in a heated disagreement about an uncle of ours, I'll call him "Uncle Walter."  She says he's alive.  I insist that he's dead.

We're smack in the middle of the it when we hear:

"Hello girls!"

It's Uncle Walter.

We just look at each other.  We can't believe how weird it is that he showed up at that precise moment.  We break down into helpless laughter.

"What's so funny?" he asks.

We don't tell him.

Streetcar Named Coincidence

I'm living in NYC and have heard that anyone can audit the professional actor's workshop at HD Studios. I make my way over there one afternoon.  Hollywood veteran Sam Waterston presides.  The workshop is awesome.  Scene after scene is performed by a mighty group of actors, several of whom I recognize from TV and film.

I'm up on one of the back bleachers, in the dark.  But at one point this guy sidles up to me and whispers, "Wanna do a scene from Streetcar with me?"  I assure him I'm there just to audit, that I'm not an actor.  The guy persists.  "That doesn't matter, just do the scene with me."  It's pretty funny.  The guy won't give up.  We go around like this a few times, me insisting I don't act, and him holding onto the idea of my doing the scene with him.  He's like dog with a chew toy, won't let go of the idea.  I finally get through to him.  I'm not doing it.

A few weeks later I decide to check out the workshop again, and sure enough, there's that guy, performing a scene from Streetcar.  It's pretty great, but afterwards Waterston really comes down on the woman (playing my role).  Waterston is amazing.  He points out that the character is a certain number of months pregnant.  He goes on to list the medical conditions that one might see in an expectant mother at this time.  Pretty devastating.

A few years later I'm back in Los Angeles.  I'm temping.  I get this one job on a television back-lot.  There's this one woman who is also temping.  She's bubbly, and I'm not in the mood for bubbly.  So I avoid her.

During lunch break I find a secluded corner somewhere and settle in.  The bubbly woman finds me.  We end up chatting.  It's really not bad.  She's cool.  We talk for about 45 minutes.  Toward the very end of our talk, I learn she had also lived in NYC.  Turns out she's an actress.  I tell her about the time I visited Sam Waterston's professional actor's workshop.  She tells me she was actually in that workshop.  I tell her about the guy and the scene from Streetcar.

Turns out - she was the woman who did the scene with the persistent guy.  She performed my role.

That was supposed to be me!  I was supposed to be Stella!  STELLLLLAAA!

(Double) Blind Date

This really happened.  It happened to my friend's friend.  But I actually have met my friend's friend, so I know this really happened.  We'll call her "Molly."

Molly lived in Northern California.  Molly had never been on a blind date.  The idea simply didn't appeal to her.  But finally someone she knew got to her.  Convinced her that this guy she knew would be a good fit for her.  Molly broke down and said yes.

Molly met her date and it really wasn't as bad as she thought it might be.  She and Mister X dated for a while.  It didn't work out, but it wasn't a total disaster either.

A few years later, Molly moved to New York City.  She hadn't met anyone and a friend of hers said she knew this guy who would be a good fit for her.  Molly had only gone on one other blind date in her life but decided to give it a try.

The night of the date came.  Mister Y looked kind of familiar.  Turns out, it was Mister X's brother.

Two blind dates in her whole life.  On different coasts.  They turn out to be brothers.