You are forewarned, I think this post may very well fall under the, "Great story Jeopardy contestant!" category.
It really wasn't one time. I wasn't alone either, Dan and I would both go looking. See, we used to live in the same neighborhood as Dave, and we used to go looking for his house all the time. We knew we were close. So many times I would go to the coffee shop, or the donut shop and find I had just missed seeing him. So a couple nights a week, Dan and I would go for evening walks and look for Dave's house. Yes, I stalked Dave Matthew's without ever actually knowing where he was or ever successfully stalking him at all. Really, those walks were about looking at all the old craftsman homes in the neighborhood, but guessing which one was Dave's was our fun little game. Sometimes we would get clues, like he had a blue house and and intricate lattice fence. I think neither turned out to be true. We never found his house, and we moved away. I am a very poor stalker indeed, I'm afraid.
There is no point or moral to this story. I noticed the trees are beginning to change as I was listening to Dave on the radio, and just remembered those happy walks, with John in the buggy, and me on Daniel's arm enjoying those crispy Fall evenings. I just thought I'd write it down.