Here's mine (with names changed to protect the innocent!)

In the 90s Steve from undergraduate days still lived near the Uni and it was our ritual for me to visit every so often for a curry and a few pints. On one such occasion we were in the usual pub at an alcove table when I recognised Barry, a former fellow-student from the Hall of Residence who I hadn’t seen for 17 years, sitting at the bar talking to someone. I pointed him out to Steve who said, yes, I didn’t know him personally but I know who you mean and I recognise that person. Barry had been big and pretty distinctive then and now he was fatter, with the same long hair, wispy tache and untidy clothes. He looked seedy, a bit unpredictable and seemed to have gone downhill but it was unmistakably Barry.

In student days I’d got on ok with Barry but we weren’t close friends. I met him on a train a couple of years later and he’d turned into a political militant. I didn’t keep track of him after that and there didn't seem any point in going up and saying hello to him now. After a while Barry left the pub and I said to Steve, it's my round in a moment and when I’m at the bar I’ll have a word with the person he was talking to, just to make sure it was him – though we were both certain it was.

About a minute later while I was still sitting at the table I heard someone say “It’s Ed, isn’t it?” I looked up and found myself being addressed by a tidy, civilised-looking man with a neat beard, clean clothes and a calm demeanour. I didn’t recognise him. “How are you mate? It’s me. It’s Barry.” And it was. He'd been drinking with some friends in the other bar and recognised me on his way out. Barry had gone respectable, married with kids, mortgage, etc.

It was difficult hiding our astonishment but I think we managed it. You can’t really say, wow, we’ve just seen this unsavoury-looking bloke we didn’t want to talk to and we thought it was you. So we didn’t. I haven’t seen Barry since but it was good to know he was doing ok after all. Steve practically fell over on the way back, but whether that was due to the effects of amazement or four pints of Fullers ESB I was never 100% sure.

You can tell I don't have enough to do today...

 

How very, very odd. I like it.

 

And in your state of shock, you failed to ask Barry how his ne'er-do-well brother was faring...

 

I hadn’t heard from a long time friend who lived about 1,000 kms away, for several months. We had exchanged emails regularly over many years. He and his wife had separated, and were living apart in two adjacent towns. He was dying of cancer, and I was concerned. I had only one phone number. So I phoned the number I had, and left a message. No sooner had I hung up the phone, that it rang. I answered it. It was my freind’s wife. I, to her, “Hi. I guess you got my phone message.” She, “Phone message? Which number did you call?” I gave her the number. She, “That’s Bob’s number, not mine. I am just calling to tell you Bob is in hospital, and you called his number.” ESP?
She told me that Bob’s cancer was terminal, and that he had about two months to live. He was due to return home to live out his final days. This happened in October that year. I wanted to see him before he died, and I knew there was no way I wanted to be journeying 1,000 kms through the Rockies in December. We went and said our good byes. He died in early December that year.