Standing in the aisle next to the baked beans in the grocery store this afternoon, I heard an older woman calling, “Brian! Brian!” Then turned and found she was talking to me.
“I don’t think so,” I said as she wheeled her cart over my way. “Oh,” she said, realizing her mistake as she got close. “You’re not Brian.” Then, feeling a need to explain, she said, “He worked on the eaves of our house, did good work, too, but you’re not him. Though you really do look just like Brian.”
“He must be a good-looking fellow,” I said, smiling, obviously trying to make light of her confusion, to which she simply said, “No,” and walked away.