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22 May 2008 @ 09:04 am
One day about twelve years ago, I got a telephone call from my dad.

This was a pretty big deal at the time, as I rarely spoke to my parents back then and the few calls that were made inevitably came from my mom. Immediately I tensed up, preparing myself for bad news. "What's up?" I asked.

"I've got a problem," he said, "and I'm not sure I can trust you."

"What?" My dad and I don't see eye-to-eye on a lot of things, but I never would have guessed that his doubts about me ran that deeply. "Why?"

"Well, because the problem is that I'm not sure that you're really you." His tone was even, but concerned. "Really my son."

Oh, my god, I thought. Had he found some yellowed, old loveletter in my mother's underwear drawer? Had my mother made some drunken confession or talked in her sleep? When I was a kid, my mom told me once that she'd seriously dated some French boy when she was young and that if things had gone a little differently, I might have grown up in Paris instead of New Jersey. She was just being fanciful, of course, but I was young enough to think she was speaking literally. I was so mad that she'd broken up with that guy, denying me a completely different, and therefore better, life. It never occurred to me to wonder how my two older brothers fit into that storyline. In France, I somehow knew that I would have been an only child.

"So," he said. "Is it true?"

"I don't know, Dad. Why are you asking that?"

"Well, I was getting things ready for the movers, cleaning out the drawers in that desk in the den." My parents were in the process of moving out of my childhood home into a gated community for senior citizens. "And I found a note folded up and taped above the uppermost drawer."


"The note says... To whoever finds this: Help! I have been kidnapped by aliens and replaced by an exact duplicate! Signed, Steve. P.S. THE DUPLICATE IS DANGEROUS!!!"

I laughed out loud, but Dad kept it up for a couple more minutes, asking me if I could prove I was really me and acting like he was scared for his life. Judging from the handwriting (which I got to see later), I figured I must have been around ten when I wrote it. It still cracks me up all these years later. Watch out, world! I've been a duplicate for three decades now… and I'm DANGEROUS!

Listening to: Sara Bareilles - "Love Song"
(Deleted comment)
Diary of an Ass Monkey: amd: orange peekassmonkeydiary on May 22nd, 2008 01:53 pm (UTC)
Hehe... thanks!
micah: bob-omblaerm on May 22nd, 2008 02:28 pm (UTC)
oh, that's one of the awesomest things i've ever heard. :D do you remember what you were up then?
Diary of an Ass Monkey: amd: drooling monkeyassmonkeydiary on May 22nd, 2008 03:59 pm (UTC)
Not really. I don't remember leaving that particular note at all, but I vaguely recall leaving a different note inside one of our walls while we doing some electrical work one time. I wish I knew what it said...
themacguffin on May 22nd, 2008 03:35 pm (UTC)
great story
I caption the photos: Breakfast, Lunch and Dinner
Diary of an Ass Monkey: amd: devilish tantrumassmonkeydiary on May 22nd, 2008 03:39 pm (UTC)
Re: great story
Man, now I can't wait til lunch!
themacguffin on May 22nd, 2008 03:42 pm (UTC)
Re: great story
yep, I feel sorry for Dinner because usually I stuff myself at Lunch
traballenguas: evolvetraballenguas on May 22nd, 2008 04:07 pm (UTC)
Hell, you could have been replaced every night last week for all I know. On the internet no one can tell you are a pod person.
Diary of an Ass Monkey: amd: turqoise scareassmonkeydiary on May 22nd, 2008 04:09 pm (UTC)
Oh, you'll know when I turn into a pod person, because suddenly all my posts will be about trying to lose weight. It'll be all "I walked to work" and "I ate a salad" and... uh oh!
traballenguastraballenguas on May 22nd, 2008 04:11 pm (UTC)
Ha! Pod people don't eat salad! Now I know the pod person has been replaced by an Ass Monkey!

davezeeke on May 22nd, 2008 04:31 pm (UTC)
turn into one?!

hell, I asked you what that pod in your basement was for and all you said was that it was an old "stage prop"...

Diary of an Ass Monkey: amd: devilish tantrumassmonkeydiary on May 22nd, 2008 05:10 pm (UTC)
Ha! You're just lucky I didn't use the old "Well, I can't really tell you what it is, but if you want to get naked, I can show you how it works..." line.
a foxy vixen, so illustriousgloriamunty on May 22nd, 2008 05:53 pm (UTC)
Ha ha, do you still have the note??
Diary of an Ass Monkey: amd: blue statueassmonkeydiary on May 22nd, 2008 05:56 pm (UTC)
You know... I was wondering about that on my walk in today. I feel like he did give it to me, but god only knows what I did with it. Probably stuck it inside one of my books.
Pallaspallasathene8 on May 22nd, 2008 09:55 pm (UTC)
Aww, that is so cuuuuuuuuute.
captian_whamo on May 22nd, 2008 11:14 pm (UTC)
ha! thats awesome. did you read a lot of calvin and hobbes as a child?
Diary of an Ass Monkey: amd: monkey blockassmonkeydiary on May 23rd, 2008 12:26 am (UTC)
It does sound kind of Calvin-y, doesn't it? But no, I don't think that strip started til I was in college.
captian_whamo on May 23rd, 2008 11:02 pm (UTC)
yeah, if only you were taken by aleins from planet zorg....I've always wanted to make a transmogrifier...
Diary of an Ass Monkey: amd: funky eye hurtyassmonkeydiary on May 24th, 2008 01:20 am (UTC)
All you need is a big cardboard box, right?
captian_whamo on May 24th, 2008 03:13 am (UTC)
yeah, though whenever i climb into boxes at the bakery, i find i cant also take them home on the bike. this will be worked out...