It Just Happened Again!
It just happened again.
Minding my own business on my daily, noon-time walk around the little lake adjacent to our office building. I was listening to my iPod. My mind was five time zones away in Dublin.
Out of the corner of my eye, I caught a glimpse of this guy that looked like he was trying to get my attention. He was an elderly gentleman on one of those little electric scooter thingies. His rotund wife was standing behind him.
And I could read his lips: “You look like John Bolton!”
Well, I knew where that was coming from. For this is now about the fourth time I have been accused of that.
I whipped my headphones off and moved closer to him. Only now I could hear his voice, “You look like John Bolton.”
Well. I laughed. Told him it wasn’t the first time . . . that it had happened before.
But he added, “But I won’t hold that against you personally!”
At that, I lunged for the sky, arms outstretched, fingers waving in fanatical flurry, tying my best to impersonate some I’m-Saved-Too-Bad-About-You-Born-Again-Emotion-Possessed-Spectral-Infused-Evangelical-Wing-Nut, and shouting out “Praise the Lord! Thank you God! He’s not going to hold it against me personally!”
I lowered my arms, looked down at him, and felt the need to nearly catch him as he was about roll off that thingie laughing.
His wife, however, was a little stunned. But she soon caught herself and said, “You really don’t seem to have that nasty proclivity that John Bolton has.”
I tried to assure her that I certainly did not. That kind of temperament is just not within me.
We laughed, and parted our ways.
But I often wonder about the old woman who, a year ago, who stood in the dairy section in the Safeway store, clutching and waving a carton of eggs at me and yelling, “YOU ARE John Bolton!”
And I thought she was about to make a cackleberry shell omelet right there in her knurled fingers.
Believe me, it is frightening to look like somebody you don’t want to be.
Somehow, it is a lot more satisfying to emulate somebody that you do want to be.
The Refectory Manager
[John Bolton is now back in the news for his second round of US Senate confirmation hearings to be the US Ambassador to the U.N. He does have a public persona!]
Minding my own business on my daily, noon-time walk around the little lake adjacent to our office building. I was listening to my iPod. My mind was five time zones away in Dublin.
Out of the corner of my eye, I caught a glimpse of this guy that looked like he was trying to get my attention. He was an elderly gentleman on one of those little electric scooter thingies. His rotund wife was standing behind him.
And I could read his lips: “You look like John Bolton!”
Well, I knew where that was coming from. For this is now about the fourth time I have been accused of that.
I whipped my headphones off and moved closer to him. Only now I could hear his voice, “You look like John Bolton.”
Well. I laughed. Told him it wasn’t the first time . . . that it had happened before.
But he added, “But I won’t hold that against you personally!”
At that, I lunged for the sky, arms outstretched, fingers waving in fanatical flurry, tying my best to impersonate some I’m-Saved-Too-Bad-About-You-Born-Again-Emotion-Possessed-Spectral-Infused-Evangelical-Wing-Nut, and shouting out “Praise the Lord! Thank you God! He’s not going to hold it against me personally!”
I lowered my arms, looked down at him, and felt the need to nearly catch him as he was about roll off that thingie laughing.
His wife, however, was a little stunned. But she soon caught herself and said, “You really don’t seem to have that nasty proclivity that John Bolton has.”
I tried to assure her that I certainly did not. That kind of temperament is just not within me.
We laughed, and parted our ways.
But I often wonder about the old woman who, a year ago, who stood in the dairy section in the Safeway store, clutching and waving a carton of eggs at me and yelling, “YOU ARE John Bolton!”
And I thought she was about to make a cackleberry shell omelet right there in her knurled fingers.
Believe me, it is frightening to look like somebody you don’t want to be.
Somehow, it is a lot more satisfying to emulate somebody that you do want to be.
The Refectory Manager
[John Bolton is now back in the news for his second round of US Senate confirmation hearings to be the US Ambassador to the U.N. He does have a public persona!]
posted by The Refectory Manager | 2:35 PM
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