Rumba Rue, via the grace of telephony.
And I know what you mean, love! All i had to do was stagger by Merrydeath and ask "How the hell did they let YOU in here, deary?", and she knew who I was immediately! Perhaps our personas are so strong that they transcend this poor medium of communication? The other option is that I'm such a right bleeding b@stard that I can't be mistaken for anyone else?