A Six Pack of Mistaken Identity

It was a pretty, bright, sunny Saturday. The kind of day you don't want when you're nursing a hangover and have to work. I was waiting for the Rapid Transit train, at a stop that wasn't my usual. Some days I drove downtown to work, but with the hangover I just wanted to relax on the train, and maybe catch a little more sleep.

While waiting, a young man pulled his car up near the stop, got out, and started to walk toward me. “ I'm sorry, you have to forgive me.” I looked around at the other people waiting at the stop. They all looked at me. I had never seen this man before, and it appeared that he was talking, not to one of them, but to me.

I backed away from the man, but he pursued. “Last night was wonderful, please don't walk away from me. I'm crazy about you.” Crazy is right! “I'm sorry” I said, “I have never seen you before in my life. You've obviously mistaken me for someone else. Please leave me alone.” And continued to back away from him. “Why are you doing this to me?” He insisted “Last night you said you wanted to be with me, that we were magic.”

Now this was getting really creepy. This guy mistook me for someone else, who he obviously loved so much he couldn't recognize, and wouldn't listen to me at all. I was not getting a lot of support from my traveling companions either. By the look on their faces I could see tha t they thought I WAS his true love, and that I was just being cruel. Someone even said “Why don't you just give him a chance?” Dude I don't know this guy!!!!

This confrontation persisted for a surrealistically long time. The young man was insistently pleading with me to take him back. To come away with him. To spend my life with him (or just another night in bed, not sure which). I tried to explain that I was not the girl he was looking for. “But you told me you take this train every morning, please don't walk away from me.”

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Ever have one of those days? You have a hangover, you just want to take the train and sleep it off and nothing goes right. Dying to know how this all ends?

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A girl with my hair color and length, who looked nothing like me, got out of a car and walked up to the train stop. Well actually, as soon as she saw my tormentor, she bounded up to him and into his arms. And he, realizing the mistake scooped her up in a loving embrace. I on the other hand got nothing, not even an apology, as I was sure he didn't want to admit his mistake to his “true love”. I did however scowl disapprovingly at my traveling companions who hadn't shown any support for me in my time of despair and need.

...and the train came, and the foolish girl got into the car with the idiot, and I rode to my drudge of a job as an underpaid and under appreciated cashier.