The Killers

At The Killers concert last night, the woman sitting on my left looks at me and says, “Nicole!” I turn to her and she gasps, replying, “Oh, your profile looks so much like my old friend Nicole’s. I was wondering why you didn’t say anything to me.” We exchanged a laugh and that was it. But then I realized that I missed a perfectly good opportunity to mess with someone. I could have said, “Yeah, I know the Nicole you’re talking about and she wants her Destiny’s Child CD back, biatch.”

While in line to buy some concert garb, I overheard a family have this discussion:

Eight-year-old boy: Mom, what kind of music did you listen to when you were younger?

Mom: Oh, we just picked up rocks and banged them together. We didn’t have music.

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  1. Twice now on the UW campus, I’ve run into a guy that behaves as if he knows me. He looks homeless or could be a professor (sometimes hard to tell the difference), and is always looking for a job.

    This first time, I acted back as if I knew him and lent a sympathetic ear. I regretted not taking the chance to ask where I had seen him last and thus determine where my doppelganger is hanging out or if he’s just mentally ill.

    The second time, more job seeking conversation, but at that point, it’s difficult to tweezer out the history, like asking someone you’ve worked with for awhile, Uh…what’s your name? Awkward.

    Now I’m always hesitant about roaming on campus, but pleased about getting better at this.

  2. Feigning polite yet awkward conversation is a skill, h.

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