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If I see myself, I'll be sure to tell me.
There were many things about today I could have posted about. But they were all blown away by one of the most surreal encounters of my life.
I got out of work in a decent time, and was crossing the street to the light rail station when I hear a woman yelling "Michael! Michael!" At the top of her lungs. Glance over and see a woman running along the platform waving her arms and yelling. I assume she's yelling at a driver or someone on the sidewalk.
Y'all know what's coming, right?
Yep. She was yelling at me. Evidently I am the spitting image of her Uncle Michael, who she has been searching for in San Jose for three and a half months. Down to the walk. After profuse apologies on her side and my usual attempts to make light of the situation, I chatted for a while with her and her companion. Both homeless, and she appeared to have one or two mental issues.
We joked around, and I called Kirsten...
"I've been living a lie."
"Oh?"
"Seems I'm actually this woman's Uncle Michael. You're in on this. Admit it, you're with the CIA!"
"I could tell you, but then I'd have to kill you."
I gave them my unused Gatorades and a buck to help make bus fare.
Funny thing. I called
baka49er to tell her about this, and she told me that she and Kylie thought they saw me in the mall last weekend in the food court. The resemblance was so strong that they went over to see "me."
I think we've found Uncle Michael!
So, if any of you see me, could you tell me to call me so I can get myself together?
I got out of work in a decent time, and was crossing the street to the light rail station when I hear a woman yelling "Michael! Michael!" At the top of her lungs. Glance over and see a woman running along the platform waving her arms and yelling. I assume she's yelling at a driver or someone on the sidewalk.
Y'all know what's coming, right?
Yep. She was yelling at me. Evidently I am the spitting image of her Uncle Michael, who she has been searching for in San Jose for three and a half months. Down to the walk. After profuse apologies on her side and my usual attempts to make light of the situation, I chatted for a while with her and her companion. Both homeless, and she appeared to have one or two mental issues.
We joked around, and I called Kirsten...
"I've been living a lie."
"Oh?"
"Seems I'm actually this woman's Uncle Michael. You're in on this. Admit it, you're with the CIA!"
"I could tell you, but then I'd have to kill you."
I gave them my unused Gatorades and a buck to help make bus fare.
Funny thing. I called
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I think we've found Uncle Michael!
So, if any of you see me, could you tell me to call me so I can get myself together?
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As a Military Intelligence professional, I've always preferred the following disclosure-avoidance statements:
"I could tell you, but then I'd have to keep your head in a safe."
"I could tell you, but then I'd have to degauss (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Degaussing) your brain."
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Double Take
(Anonymous) 2008-02-28 04:47 am (UTC)(link)no subject
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I got used to it, funny thing, it took me five years to graduate too.
The best one was, back in Denver I was once waiting for a taxi outside an upscale restaurant. One of the waitresses ( and rather attractive young lady ) waking taking an order. She put down her pad and then came barreling out of the place and threw her arms around me and yelled "Michael!".
Alas, I'm a Michael, but not her Michael.
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Did that for one week.