I had just finished working at convention at McCormick’s place in Chicago and to avoid hassle I had ridden my bicycle there from my apartment on the north shore of Chicago. I was exhausted and hungry from working the convention floor, so I stopped to get a dinner at a bar on Rush Street on my way home when I sat down at the bar ordered my food and sitting next to me was a weary traveler who had just landed in America on a 3 month tour of the U.S. from England. We hit it off talking about bicycle racing and the Tour de France and decided to have a few drinks after dinner by going across the street together. We partied to the closing bell and we met two foreign nannies out partying and we left the bar as if we had known each other for years with a hug and a bid farewell on your 3 month journey of the U.S.

Three months later I was in New York on a business trip and went for a 3 mile walk and decided I was hungry, so I stopped in a bar to get some food and sitting to my right was James on his last night in the U.S. He thought at first that I was paid by his father to follow me on his journey of the U.S., but I assured him it was a completely random event. We ended the night by going to a club and saying goodbye the same way as we left the club. Laughing all the way home about the odds of running into the same person in two major cities on their first and last night of a 3 month tour of the U.S. The odds have to a 3 billion to 1 of this ever happening again.