Mistaken Identity

At what point do you tell someone that you don’t know them? Or that you’re not who they think you are? I must have a twin in this city; the number of instances where people assume they know me is increasing at an alarming rate.

Today, as I was in a clothing store, the woman helping me began the conversation with, “Good to see you – it’s been a while since you’ve been in here.” Which was true. I thought she was merely being friendly. So I responded, “Yeah, it has been a while.” As she sorted through my items, she said, “You’re not working today?” Again, thinking she was being friendly, I responded, “No, I have the day off.” It was at that moment that I thought, “Hmmm. She thinks I’m someone else. I haven’t worked Sundays since I was in college.” The conversation continued, getting progressively more friendly, more familiar, until I realized it would be incredibly awkward to admit, “We’ve never met.” So I continued the intimate banter, giving her a hug as I left.

Which probably will create an awkward moment when the woman she *does* know comes into the store. Because she now thinks the person she knows grew up in North Carolina and wilts in the humidity.

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