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always horrendous, and if you are lucky enough to find a parking place, the lines inside are long more often than not although, to the bank's credit, they usually move quickly.

On this particular day, the already inadequate parking lot was worse than usual. Several of the parking spaces were blocked off due to construction. It was hot. Tempers were getting shorter by the minute. People were behaving like idiots. When I finally was able to park and was walking into the bank, a man just behind me opened the door for me and followed me in.

He commented on the chaos in the parking lot and, quietly and calmly, expressed some very accurate opinions about the driving and mental competence of the drivers in the lot. We took our places in the long line and talked until we were at the front. It was quite amazing. We had so much in common, knew the same places, had done so many of the same things. It was comfortable, like talking to an old friend. I lost track of time.

He was attractive, with the tall, dark, and handsome appearance that has always appealed most to me. As we were talking, and for the first time in my life, I had a brief thought that it would feel very, very good and very, very comfortable - no, very right! - if he would just hold me for a moment. There was an unusually strong connection.

When it was my turn, I said goodbye and told him how much I'd enjoyed our conversation. I took care of my business with the teller, turned around to say "Your turn," waved, and started out the door. From behind me, I thought I heard a very soft "Goodbye, Sunny." It's my nickname. I was sure I'd either misunderstood or had told him my name when were talking. I got into my car and left, but didn't stop wondering who he was and how he knew my name.

About a mile down "the 99," traveling at highway speed, I suddenly was sure it was Bill. That hug I wished for would have been the same loving one I'd walked away from so long ago. The easy conversation that seemed like talking to an old friend was just that. The gentleness and intelligence, almost palpable, shone through. I was devastated that I had been so stupid, so preoccupied, so anxious to get home.

I got off at the next exit and rushed back to the bank, but was too late. I knew I would be, but so much wanted to find him there. I thought about calling, but assumed he was still married and I wouldn't have done anything to disrupt his life. I did disrupt my own however, by lying awake for many nights, kicking myself for my own stupidity,

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