Back in early '98 I was working for a now defunct company called CKS Partners. I was leading development of Levi Strauss's first online store. We'd gone through a few rounds of creative, identified business goals, measures of success, and it was time for the focus group testing.

It's a strange thing being on the dark side of the one-way glass. On one hand, you feel like you're about to watch a hollywood premiere. It's dark, the seats are comfortable, and there's hors d'vours. The screen extends across the whole wall and there's plenty of suspense.

On another level it feels like you're about to watch a police lineup. You have a sheet in front of you with the names, occupations, salaries, ages and more about each of the participants. I scanned through, comparing their salaries, ages, and preferences to mine, and a name caught my eye. Mara K. (yes, I had the whole name, but I won't share it here). I thought that name sounded familiar, really familiar, in a peripheral way. Was she in one of my classes? Was she an ex-girlfriend's roommate? I brushed it off.

The focus-group leader walked the eight women, aged 18 to 25 into the room. One immediately caught my eye. Mara. I knew it was her before she even put her 2nd-grade name-tent down on the table. I took a closer look at my cheat-sheet. Occupation: Webmistress. OOOOooooh...

As anyone except those who get paid to run focus groups will tell you, the problem with focus groups is that the eight participants are really just parroting back the strongly-expressed opinions of the one or two most outspoken. Mara was the Alpha Participant tonight, as I knew she would be. She said anything more than 4 days shipping was a total waste. She threatened to boycott Levi's if they used frames in their store. I could have kissed her right there, but for the glass, my coworkers, my not having any idea who she was and her not knowing I exist.

As the focus group wrapped up, I excused myself to call up Karen, and ask her if Mara was her old roommate. Karen had never heard the name before. Walking back towards the 'dark room,' I pass by the participants filing out of the conference room. Mara's right there in front of me, walking by.

"Hi, I've been watching you from behind the half-silvered mirror for the last two hours, watching how you fold your hands and time your sentences. I know your name, where you work, what you make, and what browser you use. Love me?" I didn't say, seeing a couple of my CKS compatriots in the doorway. Half doctor, half stalker, I didn't really think there were many opening lines in a situation like that, or at least I didn't think of any in the 0.3 seconds before she was past me, walking toward the exit. I was just another guy, probably on my way to participate in a focus group myself.

Sitting through the next two-hour focus group I felt bad then better. Ships had passed in the night, and though I'd never see or talk to Mara again, it would be by my own choice. I could call her, or find any of a dozen ways to 'accidentally' meet her, and I'd choosen not to.

Driving home from South San Francisco to Berkeley late that night, I felt great, exhilirated. Mara showed me that someone could come in out of nowhere and flutter the heart. It didn't matter that it was the wrong time and place. It's the experience, and the awareness that this kind of thing can happen at any moment, that counts.