If you met yourself, would you be friends or kill each other?

If you ran into yourself at a party or at work, what would you think of yourself? Would you click? Would you constantly tread on each other’s toes?

What if they were the appropriate sex - would you fancy them?

I’m not sure. There was a time when neither of us would have the courage to talk to each other. Nowadays, I think we’d get on well; I often enjoy the company of people who, and, converse about totally random topics, and share a conversation equally. Except occasionally I’d think ‘What a yammering boring sleazy jerk’…

Fancying myself? Probably, if I heard myself talk before I saw myself.

What about you?

Cool question!!

I’d probably be a bit puzzled and uncertain about her at first. I’d like to think we’d spend a lot time laughing, once we got to know each other (would probably take about 3 years).

We’d do it.

I can’t tell you, my girlfriend would kill me.

Well it would only be masturbation, wouldn’t it?

I’ve thought of this sometimes. I’m pretty sure we’d kill each other, what with the self-hate and all that.


We’d get along pretty well I think.

I always wondered pretty much the same question. 'Cept it was “would you date yourself?”

Great question.

I’d probably find me really annoying. Also quite boring, because we wouldn’t be able to have many good conversations - we’d be agreeing with each other all the time.

Don’t think I’d like her much, at least at first. I’m very shy and quiet, and being around another shy, quiet person tends to make me even more socially uncomfortable. If we managed to get past that initial awkwardness, though, we’d have some great geeky conversations about books and stuff. If the other “me” was a guy, I definitely wouldn’t go out with him; last thing I need is a boyfriend who’s as mentally messed-up as me.

I think I’d enjoy trying to top my own one-liners. It would be very dry, and probably start getting pretty obscure, but very funny.

I would think that first i’d make fun of myself and then myself would whack me upon the head.

Or vice versa.

Did I mention the book?

Yes, I’d hit myself with a book.

A hard book.

Yes, we’d get along famously as friends. But date (if’n the gender/sex was right)? Nope.

“‘Know thyself?’ If I knew myself, I’d run away.” – Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

Same here. Except it would bounce between dry, morbid and wacky.

Talk about mental whiplash.
If I met me–he? we? us? DANG!–we’d undoubtedly drift right past ourselves, assuming we’d been successfully corralled into the same public spot at the same time. Since I’m a hardcore Introvert-Who-(sometimes) Passes, it’s doubtful that I’d even recognize my other self. Mostly I just try to pass as human, preferably relatively anonymous.
Shit. We’d both be hugging walls or scoping the territory on how to avoid detection as aliens. No way we’d be able to cut through each other’s carefully constructed bull.

Head hurting and suddenly depressed,

I think I would get annoyed at the person talking so much and I’d get annoyed that I couldn’t get a word in. We’d pretend to get along and then go bitch to our SOs about the other.

Because we weren’t paying attention, we’d run into each other and split our heads open. We’d probably be a little irritated with each other and say something we’d regreat almost immediately. Both of our faces would become beet red with embaressment (and maybe a little blood), appologize, then become friends. Our meeting would happen exactly like that.

If I happen to meet the female version of myself, it would be a little different. After we ran into each other, we would appologize profusely, smile like jackasses at each other, do our best to flirt, become uncomfortable, and then walk away regretting not making a move the rest of the day.

Yeah, I’d do me.

If I met a version of myself of the opposite sex? I’d do me again.

Hell, I’d even have a three-way with both of myselves.

We’d have great fun hanging out, drinking, watching movies, flirting with random strangers, drinking, playing darts, spontaneous road trips, drinking, topping each others’ stories, and screwing our brains out. Then one day we’d just go our seperate ways. 10 years later we’d get together for a reunion and wonder what the hell we were thinking back then.

This question came up before in my life, and it forced me to take a long hard look at myself. I decided I would NOT like me very much, and I further decided that if I didn’t like me, not too many other people would either. I resolved to make a nicer, more thoughtful. less selfish person of myself. I’m not entirely sure I succeeded, but at least I like me better now.