I’m giving you reruns today:
UPDATED TO ADD: I always think of the other Wendy Brandes on this date. The other Wendy Brandes and I were at Columbia University at the same time. She was studying law and I was getting my undergraduate degree. I found out about her when administrators accidentally gave me her student ID card. If I recall correctly, a potential employer once asked for her law school transcript, and Columbia sent my transcript instead, which showed I hadn’t attended law school. (Hilarity didn’t ensue.) Nowadays, I make sure doctors’ offices identify my patient file by my birthday and lack of middle initial. For a while, the other Wendy Brandes got to every doctor in New York before I did, and the doctors would be asking me strange personal questions about pregnancies that I had not had.
Despite all this and the fact that I know where the other Wendy Brandes lives and how to get in touch with her, I have never met the other Wendy Brandes in person. But, as I said, I think of her on this date because of a story a friend told me in 2001. My phone number is unlisted, so people who called 411 to try to reach me on 9/11/01 wound up talking to the other Wendy Brandes. When my friend Rhonda spoke to the other Wendy Brandes, the other Wendy Brandes told her that she had the wrong number, expressed concern about my well-being and helpfully added, “You should call her parents in Mahwah, N.J.” I’ve never thanked the other Wendy Brandes for remembering enough about me to assist my friends in an emergency. Thank you, other Wendy Brandes. And congratulations on the law degree and the kids.