Lifetime movie extras

It may have been on an old episode of Seinfeld or just part of an early-90's stand-up show, but I have always remembered this bit of a comedian's act: "Have you ever run into someone you don't know? Again? It's like God's making a movie of your life, and he's running out of extras."

When I lived in New York, the extra in the movie of my life was, oddly, Ann Curry. I've actually met Ann a couple times - both for work - but even before and after those meetings, I would catch random glimpses of her around the city. In Union Square, on the West side - wherever I went, she seemed to follow. It was kind of nice, actually, feeling like I had a celebrity stalker. But that's part of the nature of New York, that because everyone walks around so much, you're bound to start running into the same people after a while. I guess.

That logic doesn't fly in LA. It's huge here, and because people spend so much time cruising in their cars, chances for run-ins are far less likely. Sure, there are those neighborhood strangers you see regularly at the Starbucks or walking their dogs; but I'm talking about real strangers who have turned up in so many different neighborhoods and scenerios, you can't help but wonder if they really ARE following you. And if you haven't met them by now, well, why not? What is The Universe trying to shove down your ignorant, oblivious throat?

I first noticed my LA extra at the gym in Westwood. At approximately 6'9, he was hard to miss. I know that he is 6'9, because back when I did Match over a year ago, I saw him on there, too. Not a big deal - I've recognized a lot of strangers from Match, and two common sightings does not a stalker make. Within the last six months, though, I have run into this guy at three different bars alone - one in Venice, one in Beverly Hills, and last night in West Hollywood. Venice was a Saturday night, Beverly Hills was a Friday night, and WeHo was on a Tuesday. If we have nothing else in common, at least I know we both like to drink.

Last night I noticed that recognized me too, and even looked like he might approach, but we were both wedged into different tables with different groups of friends, and neither of us got the chance to say something. That is probably a good thing, because after a few glasses of wine, I might not have been demure enough to pretend like I haven't noticed him before. Fifty times. Or ask something dumb, like where on earth he finds suits in his size?

At the foundation of one of my favorite books, The Celestine Prophecy, lies a simple edict: that there are no coincidences - if you keep running into someone, there is a message to be learned or shared. If that is truly the case, then I am now hyper-aware of this recurring character, interested to know what or who we may have in common. What is this message that needs to be delivered? And why is he auditioning for a larger role?