So There I Was . . . . .

Standing in Victoria's Secret, a bit vexed they didn't have the pretty lacy "lilac frost" panties to match the bra I found, and perturbed that their selection of pretty white delicates were lacking.  I have the free cotton panties in my hand, along with the white delicates I decided to settle for.

A fellow who was there with his wife and small daughter looked at me, and said, "You work at The Company, right?"

I honestly never saw this fellow before in my life.  How the hell did he know?  "Uh, yeah.  I work at The Company." 

"I knew I recognized you!  I see you all the time walking by my building!  You're always going somewhere!" 

"Yeah, I'm on my way to Coffee Bean."  I'm standing there with panties in my hand talking to some married guy I've never seen before who's apparently been spying on me at work long enough to notice that I frequent the nearby cafe.  This seems ripe for comedy.

"That's right!  You're always walking back with coffee!"

He's got me like a deer in headlights now, because I'm not walking to Coffee Bean all that much these days.  Not only that, but how can someone notice me for so long and yet not eventually say hello and introduce himself?  Preferably in the context where he's been noticing me, and not in a lingerie store?

I'm not sure whether to be slightly disturbed that this guy recognized me without my Company Badge (which, if you don't socialize with coworkers, ensures your anonymity at The Company.  At least, I have a hard time remembering names of people I rarely interact with when I don't see their badges), or to be perplexed that I was having a random conversation I did not initiate with a married man at Victoria's Secret.

At any rate, I obviously need to find a better way to get to Coffee Bean.  Or do a better job at becoming a mistress of disguise.  Or figure out how to exploit this strange ability or quirk to profit and make my millions.