I met a young couple from out of town who had been there for a few days. Our conversation started because the guy had a massive wrap on his hand. It was the week after the Fourth of July.
"Please tell me you didn’t blow up your hand with fireworks."
He replied. "*That’s exactly what happened.*"
We exchanged contacts, planning to meet up later at another beach bar, but it never happened.
I had dinner nearby then took an Uber to a spot recommended by my waitress, and didn't get back to the hotel until 4:00AM.
The next day, I spent a casual hour on the beach, grabbed a late brunch, and decided to take it easy since I planned to leave the following day.
I watched the sunset, grabbed some takeout, and was back in my room and in bed by 9:00PM.
A loud banging on my door woke me up around midnight. It was the girl from the couple I met the day before.
She was demanding: "We’re going to a frat party, and you’re coming."
I tossed on swim trunks and a hoodie, and we waited out front for her boyfriend to pick us up.
We drove for at least 20 minutes until we arrived at a house with three kiddie pools in the front yard.
"Yep. This is the frat house."
There were fewer than ten people there. I met the host and gave him $20(I always feel guilty showing up empty handed).
I hung out by the foosball table, which was placed where the kitchen island should have been.
A girl walked up and asked me to grab her a drink. Then, she held up her phone and whispered, "*Don’t look, but does that guy playing foosball look like him?*"
It was his Tinder profile she was showing me. The photos were clearly of him, but he looked 7-10 years younger. It was her first time meeting him in person, and she was kinda upset about the betrayal.
Given the situation, she started up a standard conversation: "*Where you from? What you been doing down here? Covid sucks.*" Standard.
With nothing else to do, I decided to engage. I told her that I had been kidnapped by a couple from my hotel. She thought it was hilarious.
She had a familiar accent, so I asked where she was from.
"*Minnesota.*" she replied.
I hesitated. "My ex-girlfriend is from there."
"*Really? What’s her name?*"
I gave her my ex’s first name.
She **immediately** blurted out the last name.
"NO FREAKING WAY!" I was hundreds of miles from home, in a random house, with a handful of complete strangers.
She explained they had gone to college together and were even on the same dance squad. They graduated the same year.
She invited me out to the balcony, then offered to drive me back to my hotel. She stayed the night but had to leave early for work.
Later that day, she texted me a photo of her and my ex together on their college dance team.
In that moment, I thought the odds of something like this happening were astronomically impossible, but here we are.
It’s a small world after all.
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