My Name Is Not Carol

My friend and I went last night to check our her friend's photo display. It was less than a ten minute drive and we got there fifteen minutes before it closed.

Whoops.

We walked in and the displays are simply beautiful. This guy is an avid photographer and he has been to many places to get the 34 plus pictures we looked at. Each one was displayed as though you were looking out a window (this was theme). He used actual windows but instead of glass in each pane there was a section of picture. All his photos are for sale and cost anywhere between $125 to $200.

I would say they were worth it. It is art, after all.

When we first got there, (well and really the whole time) there weren't many people. But this one guy, kept staring at me. And when I would look his way, he would smile. Which was kinda creepy. But we were in a well-lit room and I had my friend with me, so I wasn't too concerned.

As it turns out, the guy staring, is a friend of the artist. So when we were doing introductions, the guy came over and introduced himself to us.

He stood in front of me ... and I said ...

"Do I know you?"

And he said.

"I think you do"

So I took a good long look at his bald head and round figure and shrugged my shoulders. The artist turned to him and said ...

"She's not who you are thinking of."

I told him my name and he shook his head like I was mistaken or something. My friend and I continued on to view the rest of the pictures. I kept catching the guy's eye after that. More staring.

WTF?

Finally it was time to leave and we were saying goodbye to the artist and his wife and the staring bald guy was there too.

As I shook his hand, he leaned in.

"I know your name is Carol."

My reply?

"I am positive it is not."

It's these weird moments of mistaken identity that take me back to the fact that I am adopted. And the adoption took place not more than an hour's ride from my house so essentially I could have half-brothers or in this case half-sisters living anywhere nearby, or there could be none at all.

But I won't ever know, instead I'll just wonder, when people stare at me and insist my name is something else, if there is more to the story.