Friday, May 06, 2005


There's this bar I go to only for business meetings. It’s nothing special, it’s just located well, has smoking at the bar, and incidentally, has very attractive wait staff. The crowd leaves something to be desired, but there’s almost always an available booth or table, and for a meeting the crowd doesn’t really come into the equation.

Meetings are irregular; sometimes twice in a week, sometimes not at all and on varying days of the week. After going here for a couple of months we realized that although our timetable may be erratic, the cuties on staff seemed to hold to a fixed schedule; beaudacious blondes on Tuesdays, pulchritudinous peroxides on Wednesdays, ravishingly ravenhaired on Thursday’s etc.

A month or so ago, J and I walk in together and are chatting away about things. As we enter the partitioned bar we run into and are greeted by one of the servers, Buxom Brunette (BB). She’s one of those incredibly soft talkers that my range of hearing has difficulty picking up. I interpret what she’s said as a generic greeting and we amble our way over to the bar as the room is uncharacteristically busy and all the tables and booths are occupied. While deciding between the variety of taps from which will pour the evening’s libations, J and I are still carrying on our conversation when BB, now behind the bar, approaches. Ahh, I think, a chance to order, one step closer to slaking the thirst of the day. But alas, it is not to be, as she avoids eye contact and starts to pour from the taps directly in front of us.

Finally, we have her attention but just as I prepare to announce my choice of amber beery goodness, a pint unasked for, is placed in front of me. My ensuing confusion, combined with the normal tongue-tying effects pretty girls often have, leads to my mute acceptance of the offered beer. Who would I be to turn down a pint, much less one proffered by a lovely lass? Meanwhile J still has to place his order.

As will happen when beer is put in front of me, the liquid disappears happily into my gullet, normally necessitating the order of another pint. Again, just as I’m about to ask, shazam, a beer magically appears before me. Of what variety, I’m unsure, but again, taken aback I remain silent. I have no idea what happened, we ended up paying for all the beer but never got an explanation why they kept appearing unrequested. Perhaps, she overheard us talking and misconstrued something we said. I was at a loss.

The next time we go on that day of the week there’s not nearly as many people and we come in and go straight into an open booth. I look up and notice that BB is behind the bar; she hasn’t heard us talking this time so I’m thinking I may actually get some choice as to what I’m drinking. Alas, no. She comes over to our booth with menus and, of course, a pint already poured, which she places in front of me.

Anyway, this night continues much as the last, with beers magically appearing in front of me, sadly though all included on the tab. At the end of the night, after we pay our tab and are putting our jacket on, she says, in that tiny, quiet, voice that I have so much trouble hearing “See ya later, John”. Well I think that’s what she said. J couldn’t make it out for sure either.

John? John? She’s mistaken me for someone else? Even without my wacky mop of hair I’m unusually tall and unusually skinny thin slender. To make things more improbable, she heard me speak at length at the bar.

It appears that I must have a Doppelganger who goes to this little bar on Thursday nights. Last night we scheduled another meeting and plans we made to confront BB about my evil twin. Perhaps, I would even have the good fortune to run into the Doppelganger in person. Alas, it was not to be. We arrived and neither was BB working nor was there anyone who remotely resembled me.

Ah, next time.

If you have any ideas for pranks or other ways to take advantage of the situation, please pass them on.