Last evening I went downtown for an outdoor musical event. A really terrific regional band, Main Avenue Warehouse, was playing. I was pretty excited about this. Mother Nature felt otherwise and sent a freaky thunderstorm through town. High winds, sheets of rain, and tornado warnings were involved. So for about an hour we were all more or less trapped at Wooden Legs waiting for the storm to blow through. Which isn't all bad. A nice, safe, block constructed building complete with a friendly atmosphere, locally brewed beer, and in house prepared pizza and sandwiches is an ideal location for riding out a storm. For the last two winters Wooden Legs has been my regular Tuesday night hangout for trivia. Familiar, friendly faces among the staff and patrons lent a festive atmosphere while I enjoyed a pint of Deadwood Golden Ale. Then there was this one weird thing. A seriously weird thing. You know how you can sense when someone is looking at you? I was seated at the bar and was watching the storm progress on the big screen when I experienced that tingly tickle working its way up my spine. I turned my attention to the large windows at the opposite end of the room and out of the corner of my eye saw my ex-husband's doppelganger. I thought it was him for a moment. Same facial hair, baseball cap, tall, similar build. The only thing that was missing was the glasses he now wears full time. It was freaky. I wondered if he has an ex who looks just like me. It was a Fellini-esque moment. A few minutes later the rain was just a memory and the sun came out. When I departed with my birthday growler (thanks, Karen!) filled with Deadwood Gold, the doppelganger had vanished from his seat near the window. Like he had arrived and departed with the storm. If you're going to find yourself in the middle of a film-reminiscent moment, I always say Fellini is preferable to Hitchcock or Cronenberg.