Have you ever met a stranger, who you never saw again, that you still think about?

Not as interesting a story as most here but I'm loving this thread and would like to post about my stranger that I think about. A midwife (or maybe a postnatal nurse?) who was doing the rounds on the ward where I was the evening my son was born.

She checked we were both OK and I seem to remember quite a surreal conversation with her where she said some women experience pleasure in childbirth akin to orgasm! I assured her that had not been my experience and we laughed. She had a really kind face and reminded me of an actress whose name I cannot put my finger on. Still bugs me as to who she reminds me of to this day - over 12 years later.

For some of the less enthralling stories (mine included) that we've shared on here there must be that element of a certain something that makes us remember the person/experience. Of the thousands of encounters we must have had since what is the little element that makes something stay with us so vividly?

Something reminded me of a creepy stranger today.

My sister used to collect bookmarks, and used to go to a local monthly book fair, and ask the stall holders if they had any. Quite a few gave them to her. There was one man who initially seemed friendly and sent some through the post. However, we realised he wasn't quite what he seem, and my parents had to intervene. I don't remember if we ever knew why, Except that he was coming across a bit creepy.

Years later, was delving in a cupboard full of stuff, we came across some letters which he had sent. They were full of admiration and poems for my sister. The poems were all typed in red ink ( pre-Internet days). I feel freaked out about it still just thinking about it. My sister would have been 10-12 years approx ( don't remember exactly when it happened) and he was an adult. We were both quite naive teenagers( people were more naive pre-Internet), but knew that it wasn't right. I sometimes wonder why my parents kept the letters. Evidence? Knowing my mum( a hoarder), she still has them!

Sorry this isn't one of the lovely stories on this thread. However, this stranger ( and i still remember his name) sends a chill through me all these decades later.

Have nominated this for Classics!!

Wow Raven what a wonderful coincidence, it made me feel all warm inside
That could be a line in a film.

how is this not in Classics yet?

There's one girl I think about. Saw her on the train. She had been crying but was trying to hide it. I wanted to say something, but didn't know what to say and didn't want to come across as an interfering weirdo.

Before I could do anything, she got up to get off the train. As she stood by the door, she wiped her eyes, squared her shoulders, took a deep breath, notched her chin up and walked off the train like a badass.

Its so stupid but I felt strangely proud of her. She was clearly upset but pulled herself together and walked off the train like she owned it. I think of her everytime I need to come across as strong when I'm upset.

This one was very heartwarming for me. When DH and I met his mind was quite closed to same sex relationships. He couldn't get his head around it and was a bit squirmy, though he got on with my male, gay best friend.

On a holiday we got chatting to a couple of blokes who were ridiculously good company. Again, very cultured, interesting, funny and the type of folk who were genuinely interested in your life. I suspected they were a couple despite them not being openly "camp" or affectionate with each other. DH was staggered when they revealed they'd been a couple for more than 25years

Years on and the change in DH is immense. He cried recently watching "Philedelphia" and says he can't believe he used to (inwardly) hold those bigoted thoughts.

Me and my partner were on a holiday cruising up the coast of Norway. The boat was busy with locals using it to get up and down the country and it carried freight as well. Several stops a day and stunning scenery as we went way up into the Arctic circle. During the trip we got friendly with a retired chap who was on his own. He was from Germany and it turned out he was a retired surgeon whose wife had recently died. He was such a lovely man, cultured, engaging, interested in us and our lives. We spent many an evening teaching ourselves how to play Piquet, a rather complicated card game. We gave him our 'How to play' cards book when we parted, but I wish we had exchanged addresses. He was so brave and I found his outlook on life inspiring. We were so loved up after that holiday that nine months later at the age of 42 I had our precious one and only DS. We both remember the charming gentleman very fondly and the trip has become one of our special shared memories.

raven, no way! spooky!

Muriel, that's amazing! I think it was you!

Love this thread :-)

i was in my early 20s and waiting for a bus home in Blackpool Bus Station.
A young woman with a little girl approached me and asked me to watch her little girl while she went off to find a phone box. We were stood right by some phones, but I figured she wanted privacy for the call, or was going to buy drugs. I knew I was a safe person for the little girl to stay with iyswim so I stood there and chatted to her. She was only about 3 or 4, had shoes with little animals on them. Often wonder if she was ok.

oh another one, had been to a work press event and missed the last train home. Being a bit tipsy but not drunk I decided to take a load of helium balloons from the event home for dd as they were lovely and the cleaner was popping them for the bin

So two am on a Saturday morning with a load of balloons and I'm clearly a target for drunks! I was continually pestered with people wanting a balloon then an older drunk started to really follow me and make me uncomfortable.

A young lad in Army uniform with his bags came over and pretended he knew me, he was heading home on leave and had missing his connection. He said he wouldn't like to think of his Mum out getting hassled. He stood and chatted to me for hours even missing his own train at four am so that he could take sure I was on mine at a later time (first train of the day on my line)

He was utterly lovely and I often wish I could tell his Mum or family.

Yes, a gorgeous Danish boy. We went for a walk in the woods and kissed. We were both 15.

Bob, the gorgeous Scottish boy I met at a club when I was 16. Tall, dark haired, bright blue eyes, cheeky grin. We spent all night dancing, talking and kissing, in that electric haze of lust that you only get when you're a teenager. But it wasn't just lust - he was lovely and we really hit it off :)

I wanted to invite him and his mate back to ours afterwards (parents were away) but my older brother said no! Sensible sod Bob and I kissed goodbye at the bus stop and that was that, never saw him again. But I think of him always fondly, and often wonder about what might have been.

When I was an 18 yo goth/alternative girl I was heading to a rock club in the rain. This guy with red spiky hair and guy liner on ran up to me to offer his jacket to put over me.

He was a softly spoken scot and we chatted about music and hair dye as we queued to get in to the club. We saw each other a few times in passing at the club but never spoke again.

I often wonder what happened to him.

Love this thread.
I can think of a few.

The elderly couple who approached me on the bus when I was sobbing after exh had been his usual abusive self.

The posh homeless man who had had and then lost everything after his business went under. His wife had not wanted to know when he hadn't the money to maintain her lifestyle apparently.

The lady who worked at the community centre who brought us 'left over' food and meals regularly after now exh walked out of his job.

Ditto Raven it was so obviously meant to be ! And to think you never noticed yourself in pic before.

Muriel I used to adore those Goss brothers; I reckon your caught his eye :)

Wow raven. That is amazing.

Love this thread!

Aged about 16 and travelling on a train through London. At the far end of the carriage was a young man a few years older than me with fair hair and piercing eyes.

We couldn't take our eyes off each other although neither of us approached.

It was only when I got off the train that it occurred to me that he looked very much like one of the Goss brothers from Bros.

Several years later one of them was being interviewed in a magazine (I forget whether it was Matt or Luke) and he was asked to describe the first time he fell in love.

He described sitting at opposites ends of train carriage travelling trough London and not being able to take his eyes from a girl with dark brown hair and dark brown eyes.

I like to think that he was describing me but I'll never know for sure

Jesus Christ raven, that has just sent shivers down my spine. That is an incredible story. How sad though that your DH1 didn't know x

I've told this one before...not quite a meeting, but still...

when I first met dh1, I teased him a bit for having a rather nicely framed photo of himself on the mantelpiece in his flat - it seemed a bit vain. He explained that it was his mum's favourite picture of him, taken by his brother the summer before he left for university, & she'd had several copies printed & framed for various grannies & aunties - there'd been one spare, so he'd ended up with it!

Now that I have a ds of my own, I can see exactly why MIL1 loved it - it's a gorgeous snapshot of a handsome 18yo lad just on the verge of manhood. He's standing in the crowd at a rock festival, his back to the distant stage, grinning cockily at the camera with a can of cider in his hand.

The photo knocked about throughout our relationship - on various shelves & walls in various flats & houses. Sadly the cider was prophetic - dh1 suffered from alcoholism & died at the age of 31 after a seizure.

I re-married, had kids, & most of the photos of dh1 were put away. This particular picture is one of the three of him I still have on display - even though it dates from several years before dh1 & I met, it's just a lovely smiley photo & I've always liked it.

It wasn't until about 5 years ago, 10 years after dh1's death, that I was packing the photo for a house move & suddenly noticed the two teenage girls sitting on a rug behind him, their backs to the camera as they're facing the stage. One has black, crimped hair. The other has long red hair - you can just see her profile as she's half-turned to laugh with her friend.

The redhead is my best mate from school. The black haired girl is me.

This is a great thread.

I keep thinking of other people

After I had given birth to DC4 I was in a ward on my own feeling happy, comfortable and relaxed. Feeding was going well and I think I must have seemed very together. I was so impressed with this nurse who seemed to go out her way to fuss me and the baby - even though I clearly didn't need it. She gushed about how beautiful DD2 was (and she wasn't the prettiest of babies) and was just lovely. I thought it was really kind and thoughtful of her. She didn't have to do, I didn't need it but it was very much appreciated.

When I was 17 or 18 I went on one of the Sail Training Association's Tall Ships for 2 weeks. We were sailing from Leith, just outside Edinburgh, so I had to get the train from London to Edinburgh. My parents came to see me off and, at Kings Cross, there was another girl my age with a similar kit bag. Her parents had come to see her off as well, both sets of parents got talking so she and I sat together on the train. Just after we'd sat down, six rather rough & ready looking, loud Scotsmen came and sat with us - two in the seats opposite and the other four across the aisle from us. I suppose we felt a bit intimidated, but they were just having a good time. New friend and I were discussing our forthcoming adventure and the two opposite us, with half an ear on our conversation, asked us where we were going. When we told them, one of them guffawed and shouted over to his mates "hey, these two wee lassies are going to learn how to sail a three-masted schooner in the North Sea!"

Much merriment ensued, but it then turned out they were all in the Merchant Navy, had just come back from a long trip and were returning home to Scotland on leave. Although professional seamen, they either hadn't heard of the STA, or hadn't realised that there were female crews sometimes. At some point NF or I mentioned that we'd been told to learn how to tie various knots, but we weren't that good at it. At which point one of them whipped out a piece of rope from his kit bag and we ended up having a comprehensive knot tying lesson! They were a really nice bunch and we spent the whole journey chatting to them.