Tuesday, April 05, 2005

The Trouble With Being a Twin

The following dialogue takes place at least once a week between Sarah and me:

"Sarah: Hey Ann, I saw one of your friends today.

Angie: Oh really, did he think you were me?

Sarah: Yeah.

Angie: Did you tell him you weren't me?

Sarah: No, we were just passing each other, so I just said "hi".

Angie: Did you ask his name?

Sarah: No.

Angie: What does he look like?

Sarah: Uh...Brown hair.

Angie: O-kaaaay...light or dark?

Sarah: Dark...I think...medium brown.

Angie: Curly or straight? Long or short?

Sarah: Kinda wavy, but pretty straight. Not really long or really short.

Angie: Uh-kaay, that narrows the possibilities down about 40%. Make that 25% since nearly half of Penn is Jewish.

Sarah: Well, he was white. And tall.

Angie: Mmm-kay, since you don't know him, he's probably in one of my math classes. Or my french class. Or...shit, I give up."

So after this happened for the 47th time today, we decided that from now on, if we see a non-mutual friend, then we will ask him (or her) his name, so that we can avoid these pointless guessing games. Speaking of which, I heard the following mini-conversation on Locust Walk today:

"Person 1: You know, what I was thinking yesterday?

Person 2: What?

Person 1: I was thinking that life without alcohol would be like a broken pencil.

Person 2: How so?

Person 1: Totally pointless.

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