It just occurred to me. Last sunday, I met Tamara K for the first time.

There’s been something stuck in my head since then. Not a surface thought sort of a thing, just a little rippling undercurrent, letting me know there’s something very familiar there. What was it? the height? the hair? the hands? the hips? The walk? something about the body languaghe was familiar but very elusive. Then I figured it out.

She’s the Stig.