I can hardly decide if this is sign of my age, the times or just so surreal as to seem fictional. (I'll let y'all decide.) Once upon a time, as a relatively fresh out of college person, I took a job as a trainer for a small company in downtown DC. The company provided non-government IDs, passport photos (since they were down near the passport office), and printing services (especially menu printing). They had taken a sub-contract from a company that was providing ID card programs (which was new technology at the time) to a local school system. The guy the contract company sent had apparently budgeted two days to to the setup and installation at all 22 high schools and quickly realized the error of his ways.
I took on this position, and inspired, the company sold the program (along with my training services) to a few more folks locally and along the East Coast. They didn't really have office space for a trainer they were sending other places, so I became a telecommuter* before I even knew the word for it.
Fast forward years (and jobs) later. A few friends and I gather for dinner. A newish bar is hosting a happy hour/fundraiser and we decide to check this out afterwords since it's not much of a walk. As we get closer I mention, that hey, this little office I used to work at was right down here. (I would come in to use the automated postage machine and to submit invoices and such.) And so, guess where this bar turned out to be. It's the exact address of my old office. I knew the company had been sold right around the time I left, the passport office had moved to Dupont, but yes, my old office is now Tattoo Bar (Warning: link plays loud music and is not stealthy at all).
*One teen I worked with asked if telecommuting meant I commuted telepathically, which I still find hilarious.