And twenty years from now, working as a slave in the Venusian plutonium mines, you’ll have time to reflect that past you’s decision not to listen to you in 2012 was par for the course.
Ah, of course.
Well, in that case, the future me had better show up fast; I’m at an age when there’s more time behind me than ahead, so probably I’d be the older us in the exercise.
Alas, my younger self could choose from an embarrassment of riches in deciding what to ask me that no one else could know.
Yeah, I’ve thought about this before. Proving to myself that I’m me would be the easiest part by far, precisely because there’s no one question I’d want answered. Ever since I was little, an utter plethora of ridiculous thoughts have found their way into my head that A) are far too ridiculous to have mentioned to anyone, B) I seem fated to remember for life, and C) are so mundane and unrelated to anything useful that even if mind-reading technology were to exist in the future, nothing short of a total data dump from future-me would turn them up. An unprompted recitation of any random five of these would be a dead lock for identification.
The hard part is going to be convincing me to trust myself given the conditions in the OP. I’m inherently wary of anyone asking me to do anything without telling me why, and given that future-me is me, I’ll have a hard time buying that I couldn’t at least concoct an oblique explanation for why I couldn’t explain why I couldn’t explain why I couldn’t explain, etc., etc. I’d better spout off some kind of abstract reasoning for something, or I’m going to suspect that I’m acting under coercion. In that case, the next step is to drag myself to an isolated spot far away from wherever I said I wanted to go, and figure out what’s what.
Ditto.
“You didn’t go back nearly far enough, you cunt.”
If she’s really me, she knows what she has to say to prove it. If she gets it right, I’ll do what she wants and trust her as myself. Though I must say, if it is really me, the password should have been the first thing out of her mouth (except possibly “Hi”).
I’d ask her questions until I was satisfied that she was really me. Provided she gave me the right answers, I’d trust her.
I have an identical twin who I haven’t spoken with in over a decade. So my first reaction would be skepticism. The ‘me’ would have to prove it was me. After that, I would have to here me out - I would say that I’d probably go along with whatever I had to say though, but I’d want reasons and answers, I wouldn’t blindly go into anything.
I better have the next several year’s Powerball numbers and major sports results on my future self, or I’m not getting in my door…
I’d ask who is the next horse to win the Triple Crown?
I wouldn’t be surprised. He may not know but I can recall when he, or a later version of him I guess, visited just like this a few years ago.
So I know the drill.
Chuck the shovels in the trunk and lets go and get rid of the dead hooker.
I’m putting myself in his place, because after all, he is me. We know each other well enough to completely trust each other.
But yeah, why not go back to when I was a kid, when I could really make some significant changes in my life?
If she knocks on the door, she’s not me, since she would know that would send the dogs into a tizzy that would take forever to calm down. That aside, I think I would just know if it was me or a fake me. I’ve never met anyone who acts precisely like me and I believe I would recognize my own behavior in that situation. At my present age, there’s not enough time left for any major personality changes.
Finally I can achieve the dream of my lifetime – sucking my own cock without breaking my back!
I wouldn’t ask him any questions at all. I’d just follow him blindly.
Even if he said “It’s complicated. I don’t have time to explain it right now.”
Later on over coffee we’d talk about how smart all the characters on LOST were.
Well, that son of a bitch has made some really poor decisions up to the time that I am aware of, I can’t imagine that he got smarter in the future. I am certainly not taking his advice.
I’d probably kick him in the nuts and call the cops.
Force information about the future out of “me” for investment purposes, then kill “me” and dispose of my body, and make a mental note to myself never to go for a ride in a time machine.
From 30 Rock:
Current Jack Donaghy talking to Past Jack and Future Jack - “Okay. We’re obviously all thinking it so I’m just going to say it. We’re going to have sex with each other, right?”
If I need to ask myself to prove he is me then I already know he’s an imposter. My future self should be prepared to prove himself as part of his introduction because that’s what I would do.
My future self wouldn’t have come back to help me unless she had already lived as me and knew I would accept her help.
Let’s boogie!
I’m not buying it!
Why would future-me need my help, or contact me at all?
There have got to be infinite ways that I, with a time machine, could rectify any untoward event in my past without risking a paradox by meeting my past self.
Just go back to well before the event and remove any factor(s) necessary. If it didn’t work the first time–rinse and repeat.
Nah. If he knocks on my door, he’s not me. I’d go for my baseball bat, and ask questions later.