I went to work today, like I usually do when I'm scheduled to be there. And, as usual, it was a usual day.
The thing about working and living in a small town is that people you don't recollect ever seeing in your entire life know who you are. I was bagging a woman's groceries, and she said to me "Your mom was just at my house. She said that if I say you that I should tell you hi."
I had NO idea who this woman was.
My mom is a pre-kindergarten teacher...she teaches Early Childhood Family Education and pre-school in our neighboring towns. She used to be a Home-Based headstart teacher...she would go around to people's houses and teach their kids in the home. It was nice. So, I figured this was someone who knew her from that, and she had just stopped by for a friendly visit or something. I, of course, was cordial, and pretended I cared who this woman was.
When I got home tonight, I asked her who's house she had been at. She told me the woman's name (I forgot it already), and said that she was there for blah blah blah. The woman had told my mom she was going into town to buy groceries, and my mother told her "If you see a young man who looks like me but has a beard, you should tell him hi, cause he's my son." So she did.
I'm often called by either of my brother's name when people see me. Steve, my older brother who sorta looks like me, is an avid golfer and when to Bemidji State University. I often hear "Hey! How's Bemidji? Getting excited to get out on the golf course?"
I am then presented with The Dilemma: Should I tell this person that they are referring to my brother and cause a moment of awkward silence or do I pretend, for their ego's sake, that they know what they're talking about? I'd like to say that I usually correct the person, but in reality it's about 50/50.
My younger brother, Adam, is tall (which Steve and I are not) and skinny (again, which Steve and I are not). And yet, I'm mistaken for him as much as I am for Steve. Adam used to be a big druggy and a trouble maker, so when I get accusatory looks at the store I have the feeling that they think I'm the one who _______. (possible blanks: screwed around with their daughter, sold their kid pot, smashed in their mailbox). That, or they assume that I'm like my younger brother used to be, which I am not. And, I tell myself, is that's how they think, the LET them be mad at me. Fuckers.
So, I got home from work and finished "The Da Vinci Code" (good book, read it) and my mom suggested "Let's go to the Muni" (the old Cook Municipal Liquor Store, some guy bought it, now it's calle The Old Muni). So I went out for drinks. With my mom.
I need to move back to Duluth.