The Doppelganger

The other day I thought for sure a person I had dated in Kansas was here in Denton. Which made absolutely no sense. There would be no reason for him to be in Denton, sitting at Oak Street Drafthouse on a Wednesday evening.
And logically I knew that. I knew that when I first saw this person sitting there. He was wearing glasses, and a blue and white soccer jersey, and had a beard just like this person. That didn't mean it was him, though, just someone who looked an awful lot like him. But then I saw that he was wearing a KC Royals hat. Combined with all the other things, I was convinced that this person I had dated in Kansas was now in Denton.

This was strange.

After some frantic text messages to a friend (who knows all the details of this past relationship), another friend rode by on her bicycle as I was standing awkwardly, out of site, at the side of my building. This gave me the chance to stand, in site, and talk to my friend while getting to the bottom of the situation.

The gentleman in question finally got up and walked toward us to get another drink. This was clearly not the person I had dated. It was his doppelganger.

And everything made sense in the world.