The older I get the more I believe there are only a certain number of faces in the world. Everywhere I go I see people I know. Unfortunately, sometimes they aren't people I know. Perhaps they're clones. That would explain it.
Or perhaps as one ages, the planes and lines on a person's face blur so that the things that make us look special are no longer so evident.
I mean, it really could be a high school chum I saw on the Eiffel Tower. I was there, so he could have been there too. Except he looked as he looked in high school. And I...didn't. Not fair.
I was with my sister on Oahu in the 70s when she saw a classmate from Illinois. It does happen.
I've seen others I recognize and then discover it's someone's child and not the person I know. Some day it might be a grandchild I mistake for a friend. Time hurries and hurries and pushes forward and we're swept up in the wave.
Much of the time I blame my imagination. The same thing that allows me to write books also helps me make things up when I'm trying to identify someone.
This is true--I saw the same woman twice in one day and they were different people. I even asked the second one if she had a sister or daughter that looked like her. She said she had no female relatives.
It's the only answer.
Unless I'm making this all up.