I’m not real up on Superman lore, but I believe Bizarro World comes from that comic. Seinfeld made a few references to it and I believe an episode or two revolved around the concept. Bizarro World is where things are like a mirror image of here-- eerily similar but exactly the opposite. Got it?
Anyway, at two former workplaces, I had Bizarro Friends.
Bizarro Pal #1…He was my age and was a white male. These were our only similarities.
He’s married; I’m divorced.
He has six kids; I have none.
He’d never been drunk; I’m an alcoholic.
He’d never used drugs; I’d abused them.
He smoked and never wanted to quit; I quit.
He’s fat; I’m (relatively) slim.
He’s fundamentalist Christian; I am not.
He’s hardcore Republican; I am not.
We disagreed on any and every issue you could possibly name. The cool part is that we really liked each other. We’d debate stuff all day but never get mad. I miss working with that guy.
Bizarro Pal #2 is a different case. We are alike in a lot of ways, but his sense of taste in everything was opposite of mine. So much so that I could use him as a predictor. If he liked it, I could safely assume I would not. For example, he dragged me to a Dave Matthews concert (at his expense) because he was sure I would love it. I was so bored I nearly dozed off. He thinks Creed is absolutely amazing cutting-edge stuff. His idea of wildy exotic food is a mediocre steak-in-a-sack. He would e-mail me all those ridiculous “send this to 10 people and an angel will appear” letters. He described The Blair Witch Project as “really, really well done and scary; man, you gotta see it!” At that point I knew him well enough to not take his advice. From what I’ve heard, I didn’t miss much. He was not as much fun to work with as the other guy, but I miss his excellent Bizarro Advice. He was my music/TV/movie/restaurant guide all in one.
I used to have a friend who was a complete nutcase. Well, he started off as a fairly normal person, but then he started doing a lot of drugs, including crystal methamphetamine (sp?) and totally whacked out. I’m not sure if it was the drugs or he just went crazy but he did a lot of weird stuff.
For starters, he had sort of a thing going on with one of our mutual gay friends. Now that’s not the weird part, the weird part is that he would totally deny that anything was going on even though we would see them making out! Including one memorable occasion on my sofa with me sitting there in the middle. I left when the gay one invited me to join in, but that’s another thread altogether.
Then he started getting really crazy. I moved in with him for a while between apartments and things got really heavy. He used to get into arguements with this cardboard Power Ranger that we got from Blockbuster. It was really creepy, he’d start talking to it and then apparently not like what it said back to him cause he’d walk up to it and start slapping it silly.
He’d also just sit in the living room for hours not doing anything but staring at the walls…creepy. You couldn’t say anything to him without him taking it to mean that you were insulting him. He’d get upset if he walked into a room and people were talking because he thought you were talking about him.
We tried to get him help, but his parents wouldn’t take it seriously and we didn’t know about things like free mental health clinics. We were all still teenagers then, and didn’t know any better. I still worry about him today.
I just thought of another one, but this one isn’t so depressing
When I first got an apartment one of my room mates was a guy. I must have lived with him for about six months and never once saw him without all of his clothes on. He’d walk out of his room in the morning completely dressed, down to the shoes and not take anything off all day. He’d never let us in the bathroom with him, even if he was just brushing his teeth and we only needed to get a comb or something. He was the nicest guy in the world, just really, really modest.
Bizarro World am where imperfect duplicates of normal peoples do opposite of everything! Politicians promise to lie and steal, but then sneakily run country. Students flunk SAT scores to get into best colleges. Bartenders serve only Antibuse and hangover remedies. Couples divorce each other to show true love. Bizzaro World am paradise; only problem when double negatives produce same result as normal world.
Yep, I had a friend who was the “anti-me”, a sort of totally reversed mirror image. Uh, reversed image. Flipped around…sheesh.
She was a blonde bombshell man-bait and total extrovert. I’m quiet, dark haired and strive for invisibility.
She adored flirting and romantic games. I don’t recognize a clear pass even if it socks me in the chops.
She loved glitz, bright colors, trendy looks, etc. I go for jeans if possible; tailored clothes in quiet colors if not.
She loved pop music and clubbing. I hate noise and crowds and go for jazz and classical more.
She was a zestful risk taker who’d look for corners to cut. I’m a calm plodder who hates hassles.
And we were best friends. Go figure. We’d laugh about it, because we didn’t have many tastes or outlooks in common at all. But for two people who didn’t have a danged thing in common, we the best of friends.
Sorry, I’m rambling and too pooped to make sense of this, or explore (much less explain it) well. But it’s like we were anti-twins, or some weird karmic polar opposites who ended up mirroring each other well.
Well, TennHippie, that incoherent ramble dragged your topic all over the north forty…
