Ever been confused for someone else and then spoken to as if you were that person?

Miscellaneous and Personal Stuff I Must Share
1

So I’m at work yesterday, walking into the cafeteria to grab a coffee. Big office, about 500 employees, so there are plenty of folks I’ve never crossed paths with. One such individual, let’s call him Guy I’ve Never Met Before, waves at me from afar and approaches to say hi. I figure he’s just saying good morning, so I do the same. It appears he had more in mind than this, and continues talking to me as if we were resuming a prior dialog. He says that I was in the bathroom with him and another guy and we were all talking about artists who’ve worked with Eurythmics or Elvis Costello or Englebert Humperdink, or something to that effect. I’m sort of cocking one eyebrow in surprise and uncertainty about what to say, as I’ve already assured him he’d mistaken me for whomever he was speaking to in the bathroom. He keeps going regardless, determined with a smile on his face and a snap of his fingers to tell me the name of who it was that they’d apparently been at a loss to figure out in the bathroom, and he tells me as though I was actually that person he’d been talking to. This whole thing was one of those awkward, overly-long exchanges that I couldn’t even begin to comment on as I had no idea what he was even talking about. If I did, maybe I could’ve feigned interest, but he’d already sapped at least 30 seconds from my time and that was about 29 seconds too many considering I didn’t know a thing about the artist in question, so as I’m slowly walking backwards, trying to continue on my way toward the coffee in the nicest way possible, I say “Ahhh, yeah. Of course! Well … alright!” and waved. I didn’t even say thanks because I didn’t ask to be told, but maybe I should’ve said thanks just to make him feel better. Quite a WTF moment. It was like something out of a Python sketch.

Anybody ever been confused with someone else and then spoken to as if you were that person, even after telling the individual they’d mistaken you for someone else? More interestingly, anybody ever been confused with someone else and then pretended to actually be that person? :smiley:

2

My husband has. In fact, Sunday was the most recent day. We were sitting outside the bar having a few and smoking, and a guy comes walking up to him and smacks him on the back and starts talking to him. Husband says, “Dude, I have NO IDEA who the hell you are, get away from me”. Guy insists he knows him - husband insists otherwise. Guy starts getting belligerent - husband gets belligerent back. Finally the guy goes inside. Husband begins to calm down. Guy comes BACK outside and apologizes and explains where he thinks he’s seen my husband recently - we realize who he thinks husband is - a friend of ours named Curt. Curt is a biker who hangs in our general area and is a dead ringer for my husband. They’ve been mistaken for each other for years. Even the cops have gotten them mixed up. :rolleyes:

3

At my very first job, I had a colleague who went to college with me, went to the same employer on the same date, and had the same initials. We’ll call her Myrtle Zevon.

Many, many people got us confused. Which was excusable, as it was (mostly) only people who had not met one or the other of us (memos, phone calls etc. interoffice mail delivery were the usual mixups). As she was of African descent and I’m fish-belly white, there was little opportunity to mix us up if you’d met one of us. Once (after Myrtle had transferred to another location), a bunch of us happened to introduce ourselves to a new colleague. I said “and I’m Myrtle Zevon”.

It was a few seconds before anyone realized :slight_smile:

2 jobs later, there was a colleague who was of similar height and build but not similar name. We were however of the same general ethnic background. Numerous people came up to me on different occasions and asked me questions about something she had done or said. And vice-versa, I gather. She and I honestly didn’t think we looked that much alike. The one person we felt had an excuse to mix us up (and he did) happened to be totally blind. We didn’t give him too much grief over it. The rest of the folks got blank stares.

4

When at home, I’m reliably mistaken for my father on the phone. Our voices are identical but you can learn to tell us apart by word choice and how we choose to emphasize a couple of key words (fortunately, “Hello” is one of them") Rarely a problem, but he used to take advantage of that and pretend to be me to my friends, trying to squeeze potentially damaging (for me) information out of them. A couple of girls that I dated learned to tell the difference, but most of my friends still can’t.

5

I was in the grocery store, just getting into line when the cashier two rows down waved me over. Assuming it was a shorter line, I headed that way. As I was approaching, she asked “Where’s your father?”

“um…back in North Carolina. Why?”

“Didn’t he go to…wait. what?”

Turns out, not only did she think I was someone else, but she thought I was her son! I’ve been mistaken for people many times before; I’ve even mistaken other people for myself!
But that was the one case of mistaken identity I never would’ve expected.

6

I’m part of a Singles group through my church. One of the group members has a problem telling two of us apart. This is not a major problem–but it is a little disconcerting when someone refers to you in the third person in your presence. She asked me how I knew myself. (As in she meant to ask “How do you know Mary?” but actually asked “How do you know Eureka?” “Um, I’m Eureka, she’s Mary, we met through the Singles group”)

7

In college a really cute girl chatted me up for about 10 minutes, getting less and less coherent, until I finally realized she thought I was someone else, a guy I vaguely new. I wasn’t sure how to bow out of that one, so I just said goodbye and snuck away. Oddly, we didn’t really look that much alike – we shared curly hair the same color and similar-looking Army jackets, but the guy was about 4 inches taller than me, with a large, Pete Townshendesque nose that I do not have.

Once walking down the street in the same town a guy leapt out of a building running, then when he saw me he stopped dead in his tracks and went: “…Bill?” (Not my name.) I said, “No.” He said, “You would have gone through some really massive changes if you were him!”

8

There’s maybe a half-dozen guys around here who look like me, and it’s not unusual for somebody to start a conversation with me by mistake. I give 'em the old Tom McCahill joke: “Grandpa really got around when he had that motor-scooter!”

9

All the time, when I’m in my hometown, where my sister still lives. People I don’t know greet me, and I’m never sure whether it’s someone I used to know but don’t recognise, or whether they think I’m my sister. If they engage me in conversation it soon becomes apparent that they thought I was her, because they give themselves away by saying ‘how’s the baby’ or ‘where’s your daughter today?’ It happens several times a day.

When she came to see me when I lived in England we arranged to meet outside my workplace and she said that lots of people had smiled or greeted her. She is four years younger and a couple of inches shorter, my hair is curly and hers is straight, and she has slightly finer features - but we do look very much alike. I find it quite flattering because as well as being younger I really think she’s the better looking of the two of us. When I got my hair cut very short recently and the hairdresser dried it straight I got a fright when I looked in the mirror and saw my sister looking back at me!

I have pretended to be her just to shake someone off - they greet the real me and I say - no, it’s [sister’s name] and they say - oh sorry, you two are so alike!

OTOH Once at work someone mistook me for a co-worker. We were chatting and I had a feeling something was a bit strange, which was confirmed when she asked “how was Brazil?” - I’ve never been to Brazil but this other woman had been there on a work trip. I admire her greatly, so I was flattered up to a point, but she was also much fatter than me so part of me was a little shocked that people could confuse us. I am 5’8" and have never weighed more than 165lbs, whereas she was probably about 80-100lbs heavier!

10

“Ooooh, Mr. Clooney, I love your movies! Can I have your autorgraph?” It gets old.

11

I was at UC-Berkeley (a.k.a. “Cal”) at the same time as now-pro-basketball player Jason Kidd. An acquaintance of mine looked a lot like him. He once told me how earlier that day he had been walking across campus, and was approached by a kid who asked him for his autograph. He said he wasn’t Jason Kidd, but the kid absolutely insisted that he was – so, after this went on for a while, he gave up and signed “his” autograph for the kid!

12

Maybe not quite so high on the handsome-meter, but I’ve been mistaken a few times for Randy Jackson, including – I think – this rather random encounter I’d written about elsewhere:

13

Not me, but the other day Sales Guy walked into our office and came up to my assistant; let’s call him Bob.

“Hey Bob, thanks for that lead!”

Bob says, “huh?”

Sales Guy says, “That company you put me in touch with - good leads, good dialog!”

Bob replies, “what company?”

Sales Guy says, “you know, the water company. Think they want to talk business. Niiiiiiiice!”

Bob looks confused, and looks to me with his eyebrows raised.

So I jump in on Bob’s behalf: “I think you’ve got the wrong person. Maybe the wrong Bob? There’s another Bob down the hall who’s much more connected to clients and prospects.”

This was all pefectly normal and understandable. Usually the protagonist would go “Oh, sorry - maybe a case of mistaken identity!” and butt out.

But Sales Guy then proceeded into the realm of the bizarre:

“No! It was this Bob! This one!”

Bob says: “er… really, no, it wasn’t.”

“Good guy, good lead, good connection!”

Bob rebuts again: “No, seriously. I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Heeeey. Bobbyyyy - I’ll buy you a meal if we land this one!”

I attempt to re-educate him: “Really - he says he doesn’t know what you’re talking about.”

Bob rejoinders “Seriously, I have never given you a lead. Ever.”

Sales Guy: “Yes you HAVE.”

Bob: “I haven’t.”

Sales Guy: “Ha ha ha! Nice one. Thanks Bob,” winks at Bob, and walks out.

Sales Guy leaves, and Bob turns to me and says: “I have never met him in my entire life.”

14

Back in 1992 (when I was still living in Chicago) I got woken up by a phone call early one Saturday morning by a woman who a) repeatedly insisted she was my wife, and b) wanted to know when I was going to come pick her up at the airport.

I finally convinced her she had the wrong number, but ever since then, I’ve somewhat regretted not just saying, “Sure, honey, I’ll be right there” and going back to sleep.

15

About five or so years ago, a friend and I went to the county fair (oh Og does that sound like hicksville), and went to go play one of the money-draining kiosk games. We walked up to the counter, and the guy running the game looked at me and said, “You brought another friend this time!”

Me: “Uh… what?”

Him: “…Weren’t you here last Saturday?”

Me: “Um, no.”

After the initial awkwardness, my friend and I proceeded to waste ten bucks playing that game. I never won anything, but the guy took pity on me and gave me a plush St. Bernard for trying so hard. :smiley:

16

It hasn’t happened to me but I did it to someone else. I could have sworn I was talking to a gal I had worked with a few years before. There I was blah blah blahing and finally noticed her confused look. “Mary, don’t you remember me?” “Errr, my name is Sally and I don’t think we have ever met.”
Foot meet mouth.

17

About this time last year my father was in the hospital. I called him every day or two and had a short conversation. Usually two or three sentences were all he could muster before he’d say he was tired and sign off. At times he was confused and didn’t know were he was when we talked.

Then one day I called him and when I asked him how he was a much stronger voice told me that he was “much better” and would be leaving the hospital the next day. I was absolutely shocked as this would amount to an incredibly fast turnaround. I told him that was fantastic news.

He then went into a long story about how he was watching his grandkids and went to the mailbox and started feeling dizzy so it was felt safest to observe him for a while etc. etc. etc. Midway through this conversation I realized that my father wasn’t on the other end of the line. It was some other elderly gentleman who sounded a bit like him.
By that time he had talked for 5 or so minutes and seemed so delighted to hear from me that I didn’t have the heart to tell him that I wasn’t somebody he knew. So as soon as there was a break in the conversation I said heartily, “Well, I was just calling to see how you were doing, got to get going.”

“Wait,” he said, “you sound different, are you calling from a cell phone?”

“Yes,” I said, “well, I’m going to sign off now, take care.” And I hung up before he could ask me anything else.

I then called my mother to find out when there was someone else in my dad’s bed - which was how I found out he had been moved to ICU.

18

You’re secretly really George Clooney, aren’t you?

I thought Michael Clayton was pretty awesome.

(Also, I get mistaken for my mum a *lot *on the phone. It’s kind of creepy at this point.)

19

Yup.

When I was back up in New Jersey, I stopped by my father’s workplace to run an errand for him. He asked me to drop off a motor at one of his suppliers to see if the supplier could find either a replacement motor or a part that would fix what was broken.

Anyway, I had to call the supplier for directions, but eventually get to the supplier’s place in Paterson, NJ, and walk in. “Chip” is there, and starts talking to me like I’m a regular courier for my Pop.

Chip: “Oh, is that from Bob? Yeah, he’s a good customer of mine. Known him for awhile. I think he’s got two daughters and the boy. The boy joined the Army or something . . . So, how do you know Bob?”

He didn’t say “the boy” perjoratively, but just by hearing the words ‘the boy’ conjures up a mental image of me at age four. I’m thirty friggin’ years old. Let’s just say I felt a little singled out.

Me: “Well, Bob’s my father”

Chip (slightly embarrased): “Oh . . . um, so whaddya have there?” :smiley:

Tripler
I related to ‘the father’ what Chip mentioned about ‘the boy’. ‘The Pop’ bought ‘the son’ a drink at ‘the bar’ for it. :smiley:

20

Not sure if this fits the OP but it’s close…

We were in Cancun on a company trip, my wife’s company; Maxim Healthcare Services. Everyone gets a tee shirt with the company name printed on it. Coming back from a boat excursion, our group was accosted on the dock by a couple of geeky male pimple-faced teenagers that were blown away that we were from MAXIM!!! I told them that I didn’t actually work for them, my wife did. They freaked out thinking that my WIFE worked for a MEN’S magazine. I really think that one of them peed his pants.

I played it as long as I could… I can be a mean s.o.b. sometimes.