doppelganger

We were coming home one evening a few days back and caught each other looking at the same person part way down the train car.  It was Nathan, I swear, except that of course it wasn't.  Same eyebrows, same cheek bones, same five o'clock shadow, similar knit cap pulled down over his ears, same reddish blondish curls peaking out from underneath. He even shared Nate's habit of chewing at his thumb nail.

We spent the better part of the ride inventing a whole little alternaworld:  a bit more hipsterish than Nate, we decided, but ironically drives a hummer instead of a bike; eats at fast food places daily but every so often gets all excited about something organic.

The problem, of course, was that after awhile we couldn't stop staring, and giggling, and poor alter-Nate seemed not the least bit amused.  So I spent the last few minutes of the trip with head tucked down and pressed tight against Evan's shoulder, biting my tongue, struggling not to get caught peeking.

Unfortunately we all got off at the same stop, but fortunately Evan realized this quickly and led us in a mad dash out the door and up the stairs to the elevator, laughing and gasping all the way.  Ne'er again did our paths cross.