Life imitates the Coen Brothers

My name is pretty unusual, but I learned a while ago that there is a multi-millionaire businessman who lives in another state, who has the same first and last names as me, with identical spelling. As far as I know, we are not related. I have occasionally received emails intended for him, which I always delete after explaining this to the sender.

My job requires a security clearance, for which there are periodic re-investigations. This includes a check of police and court records for anything with my name on it.

During my last re-investigation, the investigator showed me a civil court proceeding which had my name listed among the people in the company that was being sued.

I suspected that the person being sued was my rich doppleganger, and I told the investigator about him.

The investigator asked me why, then, did the court proceeding take place here in Maryland?

I told her that I did not know, but would try to find out.

A little internet sleuthing turned up evidence that the businessman - hereafter referred to as “Mr. Shakespeare” - did indeed sit on the board of the defendant company. Although Mr. Shakespeare does live in another state, the defendant company is headquartered here in Maryland, in the county where I live, actually. I also turned up a newspaper article from Mr. Shakespeare’s hometown paper, which included a picture of him.

The investigator was satisfied with this evidence.

I offered to explain all this in a memo, to have it submitted into my file in case a similar mis-identification occurred in a future re-investigation. The investigator said she would be glad to put the memo in my file.

I closed the memo, "In summary: I’m not Mr. Shakespeare - I’m the Dude!"

But were any rugs micturated upon?

Why are you doing the investigators job?

Did you tell the investigator that you don’t fucking roll on Shabbos?

I’ll bet you hate the fucking Eagles.

You want a toe? I can get you a toe. There are ways. You don’t wanna know about it, believe me.

That’s like taking a dowsing rod and saying, “There’s water down there!”
If a micro-neutron went off at Lincoln Field on game day, vaporizing only the life that is w/i 100 yards from the 50 yard line, the world would be a better place.

That goes Double if they are playing The Cowboys…

Obviously you’re not a golfer.

I’m calmer than you are…

Yes, but I’m still waiting for the weird-but-hot daughter who wants help conceiving.

Our family name is extremely rare in the US, with maybe 30 people sharing it, in three unrelated families. (At least, we haven’t established any connection.) My youngest brother, who is a visiting nurse in New York, shares his name with two members of the other families. One is an evangelical preacher in Kansas, the other is a Louisiana businessman convicted of violating the Iran trade embargo. Fortunately my brother hasn’t been confused with the others so far.

Praise the Lord!

And pass the ammunition?

Shut the fuck up, Shakespeare! You’re out of your element!

Well, that’s just your opinion.

Because DIS investigators are generally too incompetent to do their job. And couldn’t correctly solve a mystery as simple as the OP’s if their lives depended on it. So those of us who do (or did) depend on our clearances for work *have *to do their jobs for them.

Back when I was in the USAF I had a hell of a time convincing one of those morons that I wasn’t my own mother. After all, he said, that person has the same last name as you. And the same address as you used to have. That person even has the same first initial as you do. So it must be you.

The fact he was looking at a department store credit card charge-off that occurred when I was 10 years old *might *have been a hint it wasn’t me. The fact he had credit records under that SSN extending back to before my date of birth *might *have been a hint it wasn’t me. The fact the SSN was issued 20ish years before I was born *might *have been a hint it wasn’t me. The fact it was all under an SSN other than my own *might *have been a hint it wasn’t me.

At least they might have been to a more potent deductive intellect than this guy had. He was much more Homer Simpson than Sherlock Holmes. Seemed mighty proud of it too.

Sleep tight America; these guys are ensuring only trustworthy people have access to our secrets. The guys who flunk out of this job move over to the middle eastern refugee counter-terrorist screening department.

So the dissociative identity disorder was not discovered because a fake photo fooled the investigator. Good for you, Dude(s)!

Jane? Is that you?

He’s got emotional problems, man.

You mean, apart from calling myself ‘Shakespeare’?

I still get a periodic reinvestigation every 5 years. I’ve met more than my fair share of investigators. I would answer the question posed in the OP the same way I answer most of the questions: “I have no knowledge of that”. That is as far is any topic like that has ever gotten. But then again, my life is pretty mundane.