For years, I’d go to certain restaurants and the waitress would talk to me for as though I were her best customer, even though I didn’t patronize the place all that often. I usually wouldn’t comment on it, but sometimes we’d come to the conclusion that she thought I was someone else.
Well, the other day I actually spied my twin in town at a local Vietnamese restaurant. I was going to introduce myself, but he’s thinner and better looking so I thought he’d be insulted. Then, a couple of days later I saw him again hauling a longboard down to the break just down the street from my house.
My pat response to the mistaken waitress was that I have an evil twin in town that goes out and gets hammered in bars and acts like an asshole. The funny thing is, I am actually the evil twin who sullies HIS reputation! Bwahahaha!
So, do you have an unrelated mysterious twin in your town?
I belong to an activity club, we have a fancy online booking system for events which will show you a list of who else is booked on things. I’ve found out recently that there’s another member of the club with the same name as me, so I think I can blame everything on her.
Once, when I worked as a decorator, myself and some workmates were waiting for the bus home from Clifton when an unmarked police car pulled up and two CID bods got out. I know they were CID bods, because they tried to arrest me thinking I was this other fella.
If not for there being 8 bemused painters all vouching that I was indeed Kal and not the other fella, I’d have had a nice trip to the cop shop while they sorted things out.
Another time, I ordered a taxi to take me to my girlfriend’s house. When I went outside to get in the damn thing, the driver took one look at me and locked the doors and made to drive away. After calming him down a bit, it turned out that he was this fella’s next door neighbour and he could have sworn I was him.
I also once got an earbashing from my sister because she’d seen me in town and went to talk to me but I’d just blanked her. I hadn’t been to town that day.
Oh, one I’ve just remembered: Had my then girlfriend’s best mate call her up once to say I was cheating on her. She and her bloke had caught a bus that I’d been on and I’d spent most of the trip snogging a woman. That caused a bit of bother.
It wasn’t until I suggested that my girlfriend ask her mate how long ‘my’ hair was that I got off the hook. Last time I’d seen her mate, my hair had been in a plait but I’d had it cut short since. The bloke on the bus still had long hair.
I must have a very common face because I often have people come up to me and chat as if they know me. Or someone who does know me say that they saw me at the VFW and that I blew them off.
When I was in the hospital in 04 the nurse thought that I was her cousin. She wouldn’t believe that I wasn’t. She kept telling me to stop playing with her. Even my mother, who was visiting, couldn’t convince her that we weren’t related.
I always worry that I will be called in for a police line-up and be “recognized” as the perp. Since I’m single and live alone, I may have trouble providing an alibi. :eek:
I must have a common face, because I’m constantly being told that people know someone “who looks just like me”. I’ve even been stopped by people convinced I was this other guy. Fortunately, apparently none of these doppelgangers appears to have been Evil.
The running joke at our house is that there are two of me, because my Incredible Disappearing (and Re-Appearing) Birthmark. My Evil Twin has one, and I don’t. Or maybe it’s the other way around – we can never remember.
Pretty sure I am the evil one, but yeh, I have a twin somewhere. I used to have people randomly walk up to me at the Mall or wherever and start talking away like they knew me – when I would be utterly confused and ask who they were, it would dawn on them that I was not “Brenda.” (I asked someone once who they thought I was, that’s how I know her name.)
I always thought it was a bit funny, until one day, my dad dropped me off at work (I was in high school at the time) and went to the Mall to pick up some stuff from Sears. He walked down to the food court to grab a soda and saw Brenda – this was my own father, who should know his daughter from anyone else – and walked up to her and started going off on her about what did she think she was doing at the Mall when she should be at work! I have never had the opportunity to meet her, but she must have (at least back then) looked exactly like me for my dad to mistake her for me!
My junior high school yearbook has a candid photo of someone I thought was me, but it wasn’t me. Even my mom thought the photo was of me, but it wasn’t me. And I have no idea who it was, either.
One day I was walking along an outdoor mall and I thought I caught a glimpse of my reflection in a shop window. Then I realized my reflection could hardly be sitting down, eating at an outdoor table, when I was walking along. But by the time my brain processed that, I couldn’t find her.
I’m one of those people who gets, “You look just like someone I know” a lot, though I got it a lot more when I was younger.
As for my name, there are at least twenty-five of us in the U.S. based on what I find on the internet. Once I was given the wrong file at a doctors office, same first and last name, different middle name. The weirdest time was when someone called up my workplace and said, “This is Blueth Ree” (not my real name) to the receptionist while she was looking right at me.
Oh yeah, as far as evil…I don’t know which one’s the evil one, but it’s not me.
Not in my town, but a friend of mine once watched a TV special about Nostradamus, and the picture they showed of the Third Anti-Christ was a dead ringer for me, according to him.
So I have the ultimate evil twin. Unless of course the Third Anti-Christ is me.
<slight hijack> When my dad was younger and still in the Air Force, he was driving from Boise, ID to somewhere in CA when he wrecked his car. He was ok, but the car wasn’t. He had wrecked it right in front of a cemetary and he sat on top of the closest tombstone to have a smoke before trying to walk to find help. To hear him tell the story was hilarious – it was night and quite funky out. Middle of nowhere kind of place (Idaho, go figure!) and he had just started smoking when a cop drove by, saw the wrecked car and turned around to help. The cop got out, walked over to my dad and started asking the usual stuff.
Cop: “that your car?”
Dad: “yep”
Cop: “you been drinking?”
Dad: “nope”
…
Cop: “I need to write up a report, what’s your name?”
Dad: “Litoris’ Dad” (not a very common name, even in the South where his people are from – google gives me only 247 hits for it)
Cop: “Sir, that’s not funny, what is your name?”
Dad: “There’s nothing funny about my name, it’s Litoris’ Dad”
Cop starts getting angry and threatens to arrest my father at this point. My dad pulls out his driver’s license and military ID to show it to the very pissed off cop. Cop turns white as a sheet and points to Dad’s improvised chair. Apparently, he chose the tombstone with his own name on it. I always thought he was pulling my leg – but when we went through his stuff when he died, I found his copy of the police report from a “single-vehicle wreck” in BFE, ID where the cop wrote in “driver was found seated on his own tombstone.” </slight hijack>
Years ago, when I lived in London, Ontario, on two separate occasions complete strangers stopped me and called me “Jay”. (No resemblance to my real name.) One was quite upset that I didn’t recognize him.
I don’t think Jay was evil, and good thing, because if there’d been an APB out for him, I would have been in trouble.
Yes, and he even lives on the opposite side of town!
We have never met, but I’ve had run-ins with co-workers who have encountered him and come to accuse me of various things.
1990-ish. My co-worker Jack comes up to me and says something about how rude I was to him the previous night? Beg pardon? I was home. No, you were at such-and-such conference and you were a jerk. No, I was HOME. What was this conference again? No, I’ve never been to one of those.
Turns out he’d thought he’d seen me there, walked up and tried to “jokingly” give me grief about it and the other person hadn’t taken it too kindly.
1999-ish. Co-worker comes up screaming at me about how I’d cut her off on the highway and flipped her off. HUH?? WTF are you talking about? She tells me that I cut her off and flipped her off on such and such highway. Sorry, but I have never been on that road or even in that town - as far as I know - in my entire life.
“You drive a dark blue Pontiac Grand Prix and you did such-and-such. I saw you, I saw your face. It was you!”. No, I drive a black Pontiac Grand Am. And that location is 20 miles from work in the opposite direction from my home. IT WAS NOT ME.
Opposite side of town, similar car, same job field. Looks enough like me to fool co-workers at close range. Spooky. :eek:
Once when I was a patient in a Catholic hospital, one of the nuns who made daily rounds (even to non-Catholic patients) told me that I looked very much like another nun from her order. A few days later, the nun who was my supposed lookalike came by, out of curiosity. By golly, we did look a lot alike. Same shade of red hair, same facial shape, same green eyes. It was kinda spooky.
Considering my double’s profession, it was I who was the “evil” twin.
Well, he’s certainly not evil (and I don’t think I am), but I have a semi-lookalike in the courthouse where I work. He’s a magistrate, too, like me, but of another division of our court. We occasionally exchange bemused greetings in the elevator, but neither of us is scheming to take over the world.
My friend’s grand-daughter looks enough like I did at her age that her whole family assumed my 2nd grade picture was Kaylen. But there’s many years difference between us.
I work with a very good friend of mine. We’ve followed each other from job to job for about 7 years now. We sit in adjacent cubes at work. People call us each other’s names all the time, which makes no sense. We don’t look alike, except for brown hair & glasses (but I have contacts now). But even then - her hair is long and straight, mine is short and curly.
Even people who don’t know us mix us up. We went to a training course once. We sat on opposite sides of the room, didn’t have our names next to each other on signup sheet, and yet somehow, when the certificates of completion for the course came out there was just one for the two of us - with her first name, and my last. We still have it - and hung it between our cubes.
We’re in the process of moving at work. Monday, she and I will be sharing an office. I’m sure that will help a lot with the confusion.