Eh, Could Be Worse

Being mistaken for someone else could be very bad or very good, though usually it was a non-event that you just laughed off. The day I was mistaken for Ms. PoPular from the recent buddy cop rom-com was defintely an event. She was on every cover of every magazine, newspaper, and entertainment site. How I could be mistaken for her was beyond me.

I went into my usual coffee shop and ordered my usual cappuccino. That’s when the stranger behind me squealed, “Ms. PoPular, OMG can I have your autograph!”

I quickly scanned the shop for the celebrity, only to find the late teen-aged girl was fan-girling at me. “Oh, no, I’m not…”

“That is so like what you would say! All the papers said just how laid back and down to earth you are! I can’t believe you get coffee at my fav spot!”

“Shelby!” the barrista droned. My coffee was done.

“It’s Shelly,” I jibed at the barista who gave me the same you-know-it’s-yours look she gave me every morning.

“OMG! You go by Shelly when you are keeping it low key! My cousin’s best friend’s little sister is named Shelly. She is totes going to be stoked. Here let me buy you a muffin!”

I tried to wave off the muffin, not on my diet, but she bought it and shoved it on me. I left and her squeals followed me out to my waiting Uber. “I can’t believe I met Ms. PoPular! I bought her a muffin and she took it!”

The uber driver heard and immediately hopped out of the driver’s seat and ran around the SUV to open my door for me. “Sorry, I thought I recognized you! Let me get the door.”

“But I’m not…”

“That is so like what YOU would say. I heard you rescue puppies too.” Apparently being a somebody got you treated differently. “Where do you want to go next?”

“All I paid for was a round trip to get coffee.”

“Don’t worry about it! YOU don’t even have to tip me! Just be YOU.”

I juggled my muffin and my coffee nibbling at one and nearly spilling the other. As I waited for him to pull out.

“I could get you into a Gallery showing of some Picasso’s that are going up for auction. Let me make a call.” He tapped at his earpiece, “Call Dan.”

“No, really that isn’t necessary!”

“Dan you would not believe who I am Uber-ing right now! Total A list-er, can she get into the gallery? Great! We’ll be there in twenty.”

Twenty minutes later I met Dan, who had a bottle of champagne uncorked and waiting with a tray of caviar covered canapes waiting along side. Dan didn’t gush or squeal, “Ms. PoPular, welcome to my gallery.” He handed me champagne and practically shoved a canape in my mouth. He led me around explaining each of the pieces.

“I’m not Ms. PoPular!”

“Oh that is so what you would say, such modesty.”

After an hour, and half a gallon of champagne, and a meal’s worth of caviar, I felt warm, fuzzy, and as giddy as the girl in the coffee shop. “I really should be heading home.”

“Are you sure! I know of this place that has a great risotto. Dan offered.”

Risotto? Did I really look like a risotto girl? Well, they did think I was Ms. PoPular. I shrugged, and went with the flow. We got to the restaurant and were seated in the kitchen.

“I’ m not…”

“That is so what you would say, you are such a private person. We’ll keep this on the down low.”

Then the food began to flow. The food was amazing. Each plate was small, but there were sooo many of them.
,
Just as we were finishing there was an uproar in the dining room. Shortly the real Ms. PoPular entered the kitchen with an entourage. After everything settled down, I asked her for her autograph. She chuckled and had an assistant hand her a photo which she signed.

“I’ve really been trying to tell them I wasn’t you.”

She chuckled again, “That is so what I would say, if I hadn’t given up on it. Nobody listens to it. So how did you like being me?”

I hugged the autographed photo and thought a moment, “It was nice while it lasted.”


730 words

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It was nice while it lasted.

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