Working With Myself

At my night job there’s this guy who looks exactly like me. Not exactly. I notice differences that others don’t such as the differing arrangements of moles and freckles on his body compared with mine. This was not a problem back when I had a beard because he was always clean shaven.

And that was the problem with this guy. He was always one step better than me. He was a leader and I was a follower. I’m sitting down on the job when I’m not supposed to. He comes over, and I think he’s going to sit with me. No, he’s picking up trash that I didn’t see.

We go outside and I insist on an umbrella (they are for customers) for myself. He notes that it is barely raining. I tell him that I’m a baby. And I am. I wear hat and gloves which is clearly out of costume. He weathers the cold with no complaints.

He’s always smiling. He doesn’t even hate the shitty colonial music that they play at my job. I caught him whistling with joy to the tune. I would have been mocking it, but unlike him, I can’t carry a tune.

It’s so strange to see someone who is like you, but marginally better in every way. I like myself better anyway. I can’t put my finger on why, so I’ll just say, I like my personality better.

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