The first time we meet you are dressed like you could be a Doctor Who, not any of the specific Doctor Whos, it was just a certain style you had.
“Just, Doctor,” you chided.
“What do you mean?”
“It’s not Doctor Who, he’s just called the Doctor. The program is called Doctor Who, not the man. The man is just called the Doctor.”
“Yes, I know,” I knewed. “I do know that. But if I say you look like a Doctor, you might think I mean you look like a GP.”
“Hmmm… then maybe you should say that I look like the Doctor.”
“But you don’t,” I protested. “You don’t look like any specific version of the Doctor, you just look like a conceivable version of the Doctor. You look like you could be a the Doctor.”
“Some future version of the Doctor?” Though that wasn’t what I had meant. “I like that. And you know, he does travel in time,” you gave a theatrical wink.
As a reflex, I winked back and your eyes widened and you covered your mouth. You pointed, and I thought you were pointing at me, but you were just pointing at something happening behind me.
We parted company and we would not meet again until the second time we met, in a different time and a different place.
But then, isn’t that true of any two meetings between any two individuals?