Hi. I am a master of disguise, a chameleon, a ninja. On a single night, in a span of 10 minutes I am approached by 3 different people who think I am their boyfriend, bro, and drug customer, respectively. How does this happen?
I picture my self as a relatively unique individual. So why is everyone at this bar recognizing me as someone else? Huh?
I have this vivid memory when I was little: I went to buy clothes with my mom, and we went into some store, and my mom walks up to the retail girl who asks what we need, and my mom says, “He wants what the other boys are wearing.” Necessarily I had to kill myself after this, so I am uncertain as to what happened next, but I think that you get the idea.
Now flash forward about 10 years:
“Oh I'm sorry, you look like my friend, same hat.” This girl is grabbing me around the waist when she tells me this. I'm squinting down at an awkward looking cookie-dough figure. She is not attractive. It is possible it is not a she. I can't tell. It could be a gender neutral amoeba. I laugh it off and turn away cringing.
It's no less than 30 seconds, and this guy comes up to me and starts talking about his beer being stolen or something, and then he's like, oh sorry you look like my friend. I'm like, thats fucking unbelievable, this amoeba just took me for its friend just a minute ago! Wow!
No less than 20 seconds later this guy looks at me and asks me if he sold me acid. He got ripped off and sold some shit acid to a bunch of people and he owes them a refund. And I'm thinking about all of those people who are happily tripping their balls off, on sheets of placebos.
Maybe I should be taking advantage of all of these mistaken cases of identity. Maybe I should pose as the boyfriend, dump her, and drunkenly try to grope one of her friends. Maybe I should talk up to this guy and try to convince him we actually are buddies and then act indignant towards his disagreement until he caves in and buys me a beer. Maybe I should get my 20 dollars back for the bad acid, and then buy some good acid.
After all, I just want to fit into the crowd. I just want to get in with the group, right? He wants what the other boys are wearing.
Sigh... Tommorrow, buy new clothes.