 | It had been a little bit of a dirty trick. And yet I could understand how it must be for him. He'd freely admitted that when he'd been younger it had been fun. For a little while. The resemblance was uncanny, especially when the actor wasn't working. The man he looked so much like, that was only a few years older than he was. I hadn't actually been all that familiar with him, I'd seen some few of his films, but I wasn't a fan kind of person, I didn't read the tabloids, didn't cruise the 'net looking for stars. I'd lived in San Diego for over a year and had only been to LA once, and that with a friend to visit her family. "You don't know who I am do you?" he'd asked that day. Making me feel like I should have known. Maybe I should have. He'd played a guessing game that afternoon at the beach we'd gone to, north of the city. Not like California beaches of course, more rock and rough surf, the sky already darkening, the sun behind us in the west. We'd sat on a bench watching the gulls and the few folks walking along the water. He'd give me hints and I'd try to guess the answer. Thinking back on it, he'd led me all around the thing and I hadn't even gotten warm. In the end he'd had to tell me straight out. I'd laughed and he'd pouted and I'd apologized and he'd grinned. And just before he'd asked me for a second date he'd said "You have no idea how nice it is, how glad I am that you didn't know." |
