I have often wondered about people who have one 'type'. For example, if all Rod Stewart's girlfriends stood with their backs to him, could he honestly tell one from another? Today I lunched with a man who was the spit of my previous paramour. Slimmer, a bit younger, not as bullish, but... Last week at a science conference there was a discussion about superstition and how we associate characteristics with inanimate objects. People wouldn't, for example, touch serial-killer Fred West's cardigan because they felt it was somehow imbued with his evil. The same is true of animate objects. Especially when they trigger deja-vue. On that basis, it took a glass of wine for my fight-or-flight mechanism to reset over roast lamb and tatties. As it turned out, there were no spooky resonances in our conversation. But I felt it wise not to ask if he'd often broken bread with dark women sporting barrage balloons for buttocks:-o