Woman's Intuition

Last night I was met with a fortunate coincidence.
I was celebrating the cosmic event of the birth of my friend Katie, some 31 years ago, at a small party at her home. There was ice cream cake. There were iced beverages. There was Katie's awesomely funny husband Rich, the cage fighter. And of course, there were presents. In addition to the classy gift of an Ingrid Michaelson CD I'd picked out for K ("Be OK" is a great album all around... one of my favorites of last year), I also managed to find something a little more... hmm... interesting. While shopping at an antique mall a couple weeks ago, I saw an hexagonal mirror that I knew Katie must have. It had a picture of a girl wearing an "I Love Cage Fighters" shirt super-imposed over the mirror. It definitely wasn't an antique by my traditional definition, and it looked more like something you'd see up in a mechanic's garage, but I felt KKC needed this.
I'm not sure what reaction I expected the gift to merit, but I was pleasantly surprised when Katie tore open the leopard-print paper, looked at the mirror and said, "Isn't that Ali?" Actually, I can't remember if her name was Ali or not, but Katie and Rich totally knew the model! I guess it's a small, small world in the UFC Ring. The girl in the mirror was a cage girl and dates one of Rich's good friends. Little did I know when I picked up that gem of a gift that it would hit so close to home. I think that's the way my friend Tammy felt when I gave her a velvet Elvis one Christmas.
Sometimes my intuition is just spot-on, I guess. Of course, there are other times I miss the mark. I realized right after sending a friend request to a guy I met my freshman year at the Brigham (a very odd little fellow with a massive key chain collection, copious acne and a terrible singing voice) that I'd gotten the wrong man. Oops. I guess this is not the end of the world, but I wish I'd not been so cavalier when hitting "Add as friend." Boo.
In the meantime, I'm hoping that going with my gut in the future will lead to better results. I'll choose to accept the minor embarrassment of friending the wrong Rex as a fluke. Surely, buying a prize-worthy mirror counts for something on my overall record.