The Cracker Barrel Doppelgänger
I’m at a Cracker Barrel somewhere in Georgia today on my way back from the Petit Le Mans. (More on the race later) Over the years I’ve seen many restaurant hosts and hostesses have an uncomfortable moment when the time comes to call my name. So as I often do I give the hostess my initials instead while making up some nonsense about my name being tricky. I walk around the store for a few minutes and before long I hear “G.R. Table for one!” on the intercom. I walk up and open my mouth to speak when suddenly another voice says “Yeah, table for G.R.?” That’s when I speak up and say “Hey, I’m GR!” I look over at the guy that has just walked up, claiming to be “G.R.” We stare at each other for a few seconds, and then he apologetically says that everybody calls him G.R. and that he thought they were calling him. The hostess gives us both a weird, uncomfortable look, and we all sort of smile awkwardly and mumble at each other for a second. To my relief, she decides that I’m more than likely the G.R .she had in mind and motions for me to follow her. In hindsight, I should have asked the gentleman if he had actually given that name when he walked in or if he just assumed she was calling for him… I’m not sure what the truth was, but I’m pretty certain I put my name in before the Other G.R. arrived at least.
As I’m sitting at my table a few minutes later the hostess seats the dude about 20 feet away directly in front of me. As I look him over it dawns on me. The similarities go well beyond our initials. White guy, appearing to be in his mid-forties? Check. Eating alone? Check. Wearing a tee shirt, shorts and open toe sandals? Check. Has glasses too? Check. Cue the theme from The Twilight Zone.
I try to appear disinterested, but seeing (ahem) G.R. over there quietly munching his toast makes me uncomfortable. I remind myself that I’m in a hurry anyway, so I eat quickly, plunk a tip on the table and leave. On the way home I have plenty of time to ponder. What does this mean? Has any lasting damage been done to my cherished sense of uniqueness? Is the Other G.R. also having strange feelings about what just occurred? Should I have ordered orange juice instead of coffee?
In the end I decide that it’s no big deal. There’s plenty of guys out there with the initials G.R. Some of them are bound to dress like me and stop at a Cracker Barrel occasionally. Statistically, it was virtually certain to happen sooner or later.
Still, the next time I’m eating out it’s going to be fun to hear the hostess say “Table for… um…. Ga-wain Reifs-nyder?”
3 Responses to “The Cracker Barrel Doppelgänger”
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October 8th, 2007 at 1:47 pm
Hilarious! I had always thought that MY name (not initials so it’s similar, but not?!)was really “special”. There were hardly any Tina’s that I knew growing up. When I did meet one, she was 99% of the time VERY masculine, which made me very paranoid growing up. The point? After 30+ years of believing my name was semi-unique, I was horrified to find ANOTHER Tina Dorn living in California and many, many Tina Dorn’s living over in Germany! I was hurt, upset, angry. “How can there be OTHER Tina Dorn’s? It’s just not possible.” Alas, it is. Cheers G.R.!! Thanks for making me laugh. I thought I was the only person who used doppelganger…….
October 10th, 2007 at 7:55 am
Yeah, I want to hear them say Reifsnyder! You should hear ‘em butcher Adcock sometimes.
I usually tell the host or hostess “Nigel Mansell”.
October 12th, 2007 at 3:56 pm
I’ve used Roman Polanski a few times..just to see the reaction.