Stuff You Should Already Know:

There are three things that are almost never interesting to the person to whom you are talking.
  1. The fabulous deal you got shopping recently.
  2. The really weird dream you had last night.
  3. Whom you think someone resembles.

The exceptions are: you share a common shopping interest, the dream was weird entertaining instead of weird stupid, and the person of resemblance is fabulously attractive.

About Me:

I am about five foot ten inches. I carry about ten to fifteen extra pounds. I have dark brown hair and dark brown eyes. I have an upper lip thin enough to be accused on not actually existing and I have a pronounced butt-chin. To counter the lip/chin issue I have a cute nose and what I’ve been told are kind eyes (at least kind at times). Those features are secured to a relatively round shaped head.

In effect, I am average. Average isn’t exactly handsome, but it isn’t ugly either. I can live with that.

The problem with average is, by definition, half of everything falls on one side, the other half on the other side. As we get closer to the arithmetic mean from either direction, things get more alike. The point is, statistically speaking; I most likely share a resemblance with a lot of people.

I could not even begin to estimate the amount of times I’ve heard an attempt at conversation begin with: ‘Do you know who you remind me of’, or ‘You look just like someone I know’.

Occasionally the first one will be someone interesting, like Christian Slater or Vince Vaughn. The second is almost always unbearable. The questioner can almost never remember who the other person is (which makes me wonder: ‘could he/she be thinking of me?’), so either they want me to play some moronic guessing game (Is it your cousin? No? How about a co-worker?), or they must assume that everyone who share a resemblance must know each other.

Either way, I am forced to wonder what the whole desired outcome of the observation is. Does this person think that in some way I will be enriched by the information that, in his or her opinion, there is someone out there that might look like me? Wow! I’m not alone in this anymore! Someone else has to walk around looking like this!

Am I supposed to get excited, and want to meet this doppelganger? Perhaps our shared visage will lead to our becoming best friends, all thanks to this observant person. Or am I just supposed to admire this person’s observational skills.

Enter Perry LaVoisne:

(Perry, if for some reason you end up reading this: it’s not personal. It can’t be, I don’t know you.)

Perry is a local bar owner/show promoter/whatever. Most of my friends know him, and more than a few have worked with him or for him. I have only met him once, but that story is for later. Being a bar owner, as well as having access to most venues and events in the city creates a form of celebrity. I am sure that Perry has to deal with a fair amount of sycophantic leaches and clingers on. Since I don’t know him, I can’t assume how he feels about these people.

The reason for the shift of focus to Perry is: I apparently look like him.

No one who knows us both seems to think so, but scores of complete strangers do.

It’s not as bad as it used to be. My roommate used to work at Smalls, a corner bar in Hamtramck. Perry was a co-owner/co-mismanager. Smalls was populated by a lot of my friends, as well as a lot of local musicians and scenesters. I spent a lot of time there. Consequently I spent a lot of time hearing ‘Has anyone ever told you that you look just like Perry?’ Well, if I look ‘just like him’, what do you think asshole? No, I look just like someone, but it took your Sherlock Holmes-like brilliance to point it out.

One night I was sitting at the bar having drinks with my friends the Moore sisters. They both know Perry, and for some reason the resemblance thing came up. Both of them looked at me, and stated that they didn’t see any resemblance. I love the Moore sisters. I assured them that it comes up at least a few times a month. They refused to believe me. Just then a blonde airhead, trying to look about ten years younger than she is, walked up. “Perry, can you get me onto the list for…” I just stared blankly back at her. After what was far too long a time, she declared: “You’re not Perry!”

No shit.

Then she says: “Who are you?”

Not “Hi, I’m so and so”. I got an accusatory “Who are you?”

As if I was somehow fucking with her by not being Perry. Hah Hah! Worked Again! Hooray for me!

I have a ton of these stories.

One night, at St. Andrews Hall, I had a rather tall security guard come up to me and tell me “Everything is all set up in back”. Once again, blank look followed by “You’re not Perry!” This had been going on for about four years at the time. I still hadn’t met him; although it turns out we had been in many of the same places at the same times. I asked the guard were Perry was. It turns out he was six feet away from me. I feel that I am the foremost expert on my face in the entire world. I didn’t see much of a resemblance.

I did however have an intense desire to punch him in the face, through no fault of his own. Mainly because I am sure he never has to deal with people coming up and saying: “Do you know you look just like Josh Eltervoog?” That’s because he’s the more celebrated of the two of us. It almost makes me want to be famous. Just to turn the tables.

I have fantasized about ways that I could exploit this situation. I mean, if I have to deal with the hassle of looking like a marginally famous local big fish, I should at least get some kind of perk. For instance, when I am out eating or drinking somewhere and the waiter/bartender refers to me as Perry, I have a tremendous desire to dine and dash. Fuck Perry, let him clean this up. I’ve also thought about getting in a fight with a severely disadvantaged opponent, just to hang the whole thing on Perry. One night at the State Theatre, I’ll punch a dwarf in the face and yell “Perry LaVoisne says Fuck You”, then flee to the streets. Or I’ll hold up a liquor store while wearing a Clear Channel t-shirt. Obviously I’m not going to do any of those things, but it is fun to think about them.

I also find myself ruminating on the possibility that one of us will get burned by acid, or lose an eye and have to sport an eye patch. I already have a manly and attractive scar next to my left eye, so I am not interested in aquiring any more. Unfortunately, that puts the onus of disfigurement on Perry. I’m not saying I want the guy disfigured or anything, nothing would be farther from the truth. However, in the unlikely and unfortunate event of a tragic accident, I would be able to find some silver lining in his misfortune. (Sorry Perry)

What You Should Take Away From This:

Before you make the startling observation that someone looks like someone else, ask yourself: Is this interesting?

And before you point out that I look like Perry, ask yourself: Have I ever seen Perry choke somebody out. I guarantee I take on a quite distinct look after that.