I don’t know why this stopped me—maybe because I thought all such search missions were conducted on Craigslist nowadays, or because the last flier I saw posted in my neighborhood was for a chihuahua (five-thousand-dollar reward, if memory serves, and possibly Paris Hilton’s)—but I pulled over at the sight of this flier on a telephone pole near my house:

I got up close to read the small text at the bottom: “I meant to give you my contact information as ‘our paths’ might not cross again in the near future so I had my son put up this sign as a shot in the dark. Would love to speak with you again.-Jan” (She left an e-mail address and I wrote to it; no word yet on what passed between them in the parking lot at the Grove.)

It filled me with pathos—her son—and made me shudder (the Lexus, the Grove). Then my neighbor came out and confronted me because he thought I was a paparazzo.