P is for a Pair of Pauls
One semester when I was at BYU, I had a physics class with two guys named Paul. (Actually, almost all of the guys I met that semester seemed to be named Paul, and all the girls seemed to be named Sara(h). It was kind of odd, but at least it made the names easy to remember.)
So, there were two Pauls in my physics class and one was really cute while the other one was . . . clean-cut and wholesome looking (like 98% of the guys at BYU), but otherwise not my type.
One day, for complicated reasons*, a girl came by my house to introduce herself as the fiancée of Paul from my physics class. "Which one?" I asked, since I didn't know the last name of either. She tried to describe him, but the two Pauls were both medium-tall with dark blond hair and a lean build. Finally, half joking, I asked "Is he the cute one?" "Yeah!" she said, her eyes lighting up. "He's the cute one."
Dang, I thought, The cute one's engaged.
The next day, not-cute Paul came up to me and said "I hear you met my fiancée."
I came very close to saying "You're not the cute one!" when I suddenly realized that, due to the hormonal daze in which a person in love finds him or herself, whichever Paul was her fiancé would be "the cute one" in her mind. (I think about this every now and then when I'm thinking about shared frames of reference.)
* If you must know, she came by my house to set me up on a blind date, which is odd, because a blind date usually means that you know the person setting you up, but not the person you're going out with. If you don't know either, does that make it a double-blind date? And does that make the results of the date statistically significant?