“I know you,” said the woman. “I thought I recognized the name.”
This is how this story started. I was interviewing an accountant in a semi-state organization. I was a computer consultant at the time, working for one of the ‘big six’ consulting firms. She was about five three, a brunette with short hair. Her (married) name was Inez Clarke.
“You won’t remember me,” she says, “but I kissed you when we were four.”
Instantly, the kissing incident came flooding back into my mind. I was four, attending a birthday party in a friend’s house and this four-year-old blonde bombshell called Inez Murray grabbed me by the staircase and kissed me. The act was witnessed by everyone and I cried. I remember that vividly. At this remove, I can’t recall why I cried, but I did and everybody laughed. Anyway, the accountant and I had a short conversation about the incident, which she remembered fondly.
About two years later, I was at a party when this tall, majestic woman approached and shook my hand. She was an architect with long blonde hair.
“You won’t remember me,” she says, “but before I was married my name was Inez Murray, and we kissed on a staircase many years ago, when we were four.”
That’s all there is to this weird story: two very different women both claiming the same identity. I never got to the bottom of this.