During the summer of 1989, I was driving with a couple of friends to California. We’d started the day in Lincoln, Neb., where I was living at the time. We’d driven about nine hours and were staying overnight in a campground in western Wyoming.
I was brushing my teeth before going to bed when I started chatting with a guy at the sink next to me. I asked him where he was from and he said he lived outside of Lincoln. I told him I lived in Lincoln so he asked me where I lived. It turned out I was in his territory because he worked for UPS.
When I told him my address and he said, “Oh, the peach house with the stone pillars. I always put your packages on the porch between one of the pillars.”
Here I was nine hours from my home and this guy knew exactly where I lived. A little creepy but interesting coincidence.