Folklorists and the writers of the sitcom How I Meet Your Mother would have us believe that everyone has a doppelganger, a twin of some sort -- most likely of the evil or Bizarro Superman variety.
I, dear friends, found mine. And of this I’m pretty certain: I’m the bizarro one.
Let’s climb into the WayBack Machine to when I started this monument to my lack of employment four years ago. After I came up with my blog’s name, I Googled the word “uncool” for shots and gargles (that would be gin and Listerine to hide smell of said gin). A link came up to this book:
I bought it and packed it between my boxer briefs and allergy meds for a read on our family vacation to the Dominican Republic. That’s when I REALLY bought it.
“My Love,” I recall saying through a haze of sunscreen and Presidente beer. “I am not alone.”