You look like....

“Has anyone ever told you that you look like Kevin Spacey?”

That’s what I got told yesterday when I was at work at Famima. A couple walks in, and the guy lays that one on me. He didn’t even have the courtesy to say “a young Kevin Spacey” – just that (to him) I look like “Kevin Spacey.” And apparently people should have told me this.

I ordered them out of the store.

I guess I DO get this all the time

I guess I never look like myself. I have a “face” face; people see someone else’s face rather than my own. This being the case, maybe I should contact the CIA and get a job as an undercover agent – as like McCavity the Mystery Cat – I’m not there.

This time I was out to dinner and the waitress said:
“Excuse me, you must get this ALL the time, but you exactly like my friend Scott Lowell. Ted on Queer As Folk – wow, it’s uncanny. Sorry, I just had to say that.”

I’m never quite sure how to respond to things like this. I hadn’t in fact seen Queer As Folk, I don’t get that “all the time”. I just smiled graciously and thanked her, as she genuinely believed this to be a supreme compliment.

Then I got home.

Thanks to our good friends at IMDB I see that Scott is a good 7 years older than me. And while there is a passing resemblance – if you’re drunk and don’t have your (strong) prescription glasses on/a contact fell out – I’m not sure “exactly” is the best adjective to describe the situation of how much we look alike.

Though a quick highly unscientific poll of work peeps got me a list of responses along these lines:
“Yes, you do look like him.”
“A little bit, yes.”
“Not an exact match, but yeah, you do.”

At least one of them had the grace to say that he looks 10 – 15 years older than me…

I think I shall have to begin a list of people I look like in LA. And thinking about it, I guess I do get this sort of thing all the time. It's just the male that I look like that changes every time.

If we're going to be retooling my life and I'm recast, like another Darrin the Dick York me can easily be replaced with no one really the wiser to the change.

Like looking in a mirror, a fun house mirror

I’m shopping at my local Trader Joes last week, right after the gym. I’ve just had a relatively long work out, so I’m still in shorts, t-shirt, I’ve got my glasses on and my hair is kinda flat and spiky from sweat (so I’m wanting a shower).

I get to the check out, and the cashier looks at me and then at the guy behind me and loudly exclaims, “Is he your brother?! Are you two related?! Wow, you two look A LOT alike!”

With a feeling of trepidation in my stomach, I slowly turn my head around to get a view of this doppelganger behind me; and it’s so much worse than I feared. The look-alike guy is:
a. yes, wearing glasses
b. yes, is wearing a white t-shirt
but he is also:
a. older than me (a lot older)
b. fatter than me (a lot fatter)

So, perhaps, in a parallel universe where I was born in the 60’s and not the 70’s, and I’d begun shoveling copious amounts of fried food into myself and exercising a hellava lot less than I currently do I’d be FINE with the comment.

But I’m not in that universe, and while I have just come from the gym, I don’t feel that just wearing glasses and a t-shirt makes someone look, and I quote, “a lot alike” end quote.

To make things just that bit worse, the guy chuckles and responds “Well I can’t help it these days when folks keep stealing my style”.

HIS STYLE!? Gym shorts, t-shirt and sweat stains are not, never have been, and never will be “my style”. And I certainly don’t think they should be anyone else’s. Other than perhaps long distance Olympic runners.

I’m not sure I’ll go back to that Trader Joes…