I was dead for two days.

At least according to the fine folks at Vermont Natural Gas. I got an odd note on my door, and went in to see what it was about. The woman asked my address and name. She stared at the computer, said “YOU’RE Swimming Riddles?”
“Just one minute.” She typed something else in the computer. “Um…yea. It says here that you’re dead.”

See, I live in a mother-in-law apartment above my landlords’ house. They are Tibetian, and their mother lives with them. She’s quite old, fairly senile, and only speaks Tibetian. The Gas man knocked on their door, asked about apartment #2, and she put her palm to her forhead and said what he thought was “dead.” My theory is that she was saying “tashi delek,” which is your standard Tibetian greeting.

Anyhoo, I amused the entire office quite a bit, and was entirely delighted with the whole affair. I told the receptionist that I felt that I had a whole new lease on life. I mean, this is the first time, to my knowledge that anyone has thought me dead. Wished, sure. But not honestly believed it.

So what say ye, Dopers? Anyone else ever need the assistance of John Edwards to contact themselves?

Wow, and I thought my life was sad…

You can’t leave yet, you still owe me a mix tape.

Welcome back, toots.

I have nothing to say really, other than the fact that’s it’s cool you live in VT (well, I assume you do.) I’m from VT.
Oh, and congrats on being alive!

AFAIK, the only reason the ‘Gasman’ would roll up would be to disconnect you for not paying your bill. Pay it by the due date next time, then they won’t hafta kill ya! :smiley:

Wait, if you died, then we can start the canonization process and have you named Patron Saint of the SDMB. Is that invalidated by the fact that you returned?

St. SWIDDLES does have a nice ring to it, doesn’t it? And I think a ‘resurrection’ would be extra brownie points for the canonization…

Happens to me all the time. Well, not all the time, but often enough. Often enough that a cat would be green with envy.

(Have you ever seen a green cat? That’ll teach the sucker to wash after stealing watermelon candy.)

I have encountered conversational gambits like “Whoa, $#!%, I heard/read/saw on the news that you were dead/lost at sea/in jail/on the lam/abducted by aliens!” many times. Well, not all of them. Some variations I’ve only heard once. And there was also the one where the guy said he thought I was working for Batman, which I assume means that he thought I had been magically transported to the DC universe, but I digress.

It’s a function of having a common name, I guess. No, not the one you’re thinking of–that other common name. You know, the one that makes hotel clerks just assume that it’s an alias? That means that every time someone with my name–really, there are lots of us, we’re not all in the Witness Protection Program!–is featured in a rumor or news story (for those who like to think there’s a difference), someone assumes that it’s me.

My response varies from a simple, “Rumors of my death have been slightly exaggerated.” to (with all due respect to Dan Parkins) “Yeah, but I hear I done got over it, and I ain’t died no more since.” On the whole, it’s a lot less hassle than when one of my namesakes gets into credit trouble.

Still, the longest I’ve been dead is a few hours, so I would say that Swiddles returning after two whole days is definitely a miracle, and should count toward her Halo Badge.

I thought I was dead once. Turns out I was just bored.

Wrong-O, pal. Aside from thinking me dead, they also had my billing address as San Diego. I have yet to figure this one out, but that’s why gasman was visiting.

phouka, you are truely evil. Just when I thought I was out of the Patron Saint business, you suck me back in.

Robie, I’m getting a CD burner in a month, and have been waiting for it before I make your mix. I owe you one, I know. ::hangs head in shame::

Today I think I shall dance to celebrate my being alive. HUPPAH!

Happy resurrection, Swiddles! :slight_smile:

I live in a fairly small town, and someone died in a car accident who shared my name. It is not THAT common of a name, at least my first name isn’t, and in conjunction with my last name…but someone apparently shared the whole thing with me.

A few months ago, my boss got three phone calls at home on a weekend from patients who were devastated to hear that I had been killed in an automobile accident. He told them that he thought someone would have told him if I had been killed (it is a small office and I have worked for him long enough that my family would for SURE have let him know…we are like family to the extent that he planned to close the office the day of my mom’s funeral until we chose to have it on a Saturday)…but after the second call, he called to make sure I was among the living.

In the weeks after, we had several patients come in and get teary-eyed when I greeted them…they said they saw the obituary and thought it was me.

I am so amazed and so touched that they feel so kindly toward me that they felt that way. It chokes me up even now.

Nah. If anything, I’d say that’s the first of her three miracles.

I share the same name as a mountain climber who bit it about five years ago. On a previous message board I used my real name and someone assumed I was “making fun” of the guy because I used his name. Until that point I’d never even heard of him. Truth be told, the guy is almost more famous through death than when he was alive so if anything people should be proud I’m keeping him alive in my heart. Or something like that.