I was ogling the wares at the Consumer Electronics Expo when I saw him. Standing between the Chumby™ Bluetooth free-standing internet radios and the Samsung™ HD plasma-screened phablets. My doppelganger.
He was dressed a lot better than me. My pyjamas were quite faded and even fraying a bit at the collar. But not him. All natty in his full-length coat made out of what appeared to be capybara pelts. And he also wore a hat. But not just any hat. A hat that came to a point with a single, silver bell on top that jingled nattily every time he bopped his head to the Justin Bieber tune playing on the Chumby™.
I wanted to approach him. Talk to him, even. Ask him what it was like to be me, only more successful and dashing. But I couldn’t. What would he think of me? Would he turn his head and expectorate in disgust over the waste of my (our?) roguish good looks? I couldn’t take that chance.
So I just watched him from afar. I wondered what he did for a living. Was he a forest ranger? A primo ballerina (ballerino?)? Or was he just an everyday Joe like me, slaving away in the cobalite mines of West Virginia? I could only imagine the adventures he had. The high point of MY day is managing to remove a majority of the cobalite dust from my ear canal and nostrils.
Then he left the expo. Passing right by without even a whiff of recognition. A wave of sadness came over me like a thing that comes in waves. Like water. On a beach. Yeah, that’s it. In any event, I couldn’t help but feel that a part of me left with my twin brother from another surrogate mother. And that part was my wallet, which he obviously pilfered from my pocket.