Under the iron bridge . .

I did two piano stints today. My usual at the country club then a small party at the Mount, which is a very nice old hotel in the posh end of town.

Before I started, just as I was sitting at the piano running through some stuff, a girl came up to me and said "I know you from school, it's Richard isn't it?".

I recognised her too, but vaguely. .

Anyway, it turns out she's a friend of a girl I used to 'go out' with about 1991. So I obviously asked how her friend was, what she was doing now etc. .

Turns out she's divorced with two kids.

So this old schoolfriend asks me if I'm married, (might as well have asked me if I was a transsexual tightrope-walking cosmonaut called Tarzan) . . I say "no". Then it all starts taking a stranger turn, her face lights up and she gets out her phone and tells me she'll give me the girl's phone number.

And I said "um, I don't think so . . " because it would have been taken with the plain cast iron unsaid understanding that I'd get in contact with her looking for a prospective partner, rather than to 'catch up'. Because, as everyone seems to believe, if you're not married, you're looking. And how can it be any other way?

I said to this girl, "I'll have a think, I'll come and find you . . " and I didn't see her afterward. I thought she was part of the party, but she wasn't. In fact, I don't know why she was there.

Heck, I'd like to see this old girlfriend. Not on a 'date', but if there were any past ex-girlfriends I'd like to meet again, it'd be this one. I really did think, back in the day, she was something very special indeed.

Anyway, it's all put a strange spin on the day. The very idea something long gone and filed away in my memory could become part of reality again has had me thinking about the odd twists and turns of life and fate and the small decisions we make that change our lives.

I said to this girl "I thought she was lovely . . " and she said "she thought you were . . " and it led me to believe it was a topic discussed between them recently.

It's given me food for thought . . but I don't think you can ever go back. Life isn't about recreating past moments, it's about making new ones. Isn't it?

--
Me in Amsterdam? Okay then . .

I look sad, I wasn't!