I know you, right?

I ran across a woman the other day.

In a sense, at least.  She was the one doing the running.  She was coming at me from the other end of the park.  Something about her gait, her swinging arms, her countenance struck me as familiar. I'd met her before. I wasn't completely sure where, or when, but I knew I had.  There was no way this was the first time I was meeting her.  Where did I know her from?

"Excuse me, sorry about that..." She caught me off guard with her apology. I know her. I just know it. But how?  From where?

"Sir? Can I have my frisbee back?"  Right, that's why she came running over to me. Not because she recognized me in the same way, but because her frisbee had rolled into my leg.  But I know that I've met her before.  No, not met, knew. I knew this woman.  I knew her very well.  Why?

She thrust her hand out, a bit impatient at this point.  "Sorry," I said, shaking a stupid grin off my face, "I zoned out for a bit there.  Have we met before?"  I handed her the frisbee, studying her face for even a glimpse of recognition.

"No, no we haven't.  If you'll excuse me, I've got a game to return to."  She ran back out to her friends. I watched every step, unable to shake the feeling that I knew her. I was starting to feel like I owed her an apology for something from weeks ago. What could I have possibly done to this woman? She obviously didn't know me, but I definitely knew her.I felt so close to figuring it out, it was right there, her name, her name was--