One Of These Kids Is Not Like The Others
Expect the unexpected. Even doppelgängers!
If you’re lucky, you find someone you click with. Someone who shares the same idiosyncratic sense of humor. Over time you develop a friendship entirely based on trivial, esoteric jokes.
It was in gym class in the seventh grade that I met Chris McPherson. We sat next to each other on the number-marked asphalt, where the teacher would take roll. It wasn’t long before Chris and I realized we were both nerds. We quickly built up a repertoire of inside jokes and pop culture skits we would recite to amuse ourselves before class started.
For instance, whenever someone would deviate from the prescribed physical education uniform, we would sing a revised line from a song on Sesame Street:
‘One of these kids is not like the others, one of these kids just doesn’t belong…’.
I know, it was stupid.
I never saw Chris outside of P.E.. Our school population and campus were large, and we just never made arrangements to meet up. One day during lunch I was on my way to the cantina to get my daily Coke and Suzy-Q. I saw Chris hanging out with a group of friends. I walked right on up. They were just standing around, not talking.
“What’s up?” I said.
They all looked at me, offering awkward head nods. So I just broke into song. “One of these kids is not like the others.”
I waited for Chris to respond with the customary, ‘One of these kids just doesn’t belong’. He didn’t. He just stared at me.
“What the fuck kind of weirdo are you?” he asked.
“Oh I get it, you don’t want to look uncool in front of your cool friends. Whatever,” I responded with contempt and went on my way.
P.E. rolled around and I was sitting at my appointed spot. Chris sat down next to me and immediately initiated our usual discourse. I was having none of it. I sat grimacing, unwilling to acknowledge his presence.
“What’s your problem?” he asked.
“What’s YOUR problem?” I demanded.
I proclaimed my displeasure at our earlier encounter. That’s when Chris let me know he had a twin brother, Bill. Even after Bill and I were formally introduced, I don’t think he ever fully appreciated the circumstances of our first encounter. Bill forever thought I was a fucking weirdo. Rightfully so.
