It’s A Small World

Tell us a true story that proves it really is a small world after all.

I attended sixth grade at a typical elementary school in Seattle known as Sunset Elementary. It was there that I first built a model rocket and launched it successfully. It was there that I acquired my first memorable crush on a girl. It was also there that one of my first “Small World” lessons would begin.

My family had just moved into the neighborhood and so Sunset was a new school to me. I experienced all the things I expected to experience on the first day at a new school: utter confusion resulting in repeated tardiness, newbie blunders resulting in ridicule, etc. Walking in to my social studies class – the last class before lunch – some girl in the back of the room blurted out something that drew the entire class’s attention to my gangly form:

“Hey, that guy looks like Kevin Rush!”

I just stopped and sheepishly stood there in front of thirty or so strangers, the only thoughts running through my head being a litany of things that must certainly be wrong with this Kevin Rush fellow to serve him the odious injustice of bearing such a striking resemblance to me. Was he short and wiry like me? Did his hair refuse to lay down like mine? Was he constantly as burdened with an overabundance of drawing supplies as I was? More importantly, was he someone people liked or despised?

Kevin Rush never appeared in class and no one seemed overly interested in talking to me, so none of my silent questions were answered in that hour.

In fact, most of my curiosity regarding my doppelganger would have to wait, perhaps indefinitely. As it turned out, Kevin Rush had moved away after the previous school year and no one really knew where he had moved to. It seemed he had also had a personality and sense of humor similar to mine and, lo and behold, also had a penchant for ignoring his teachers in favor of creating elaborate doodles.

My family moved again the following year to a suburb called Woodinville where, come September, I got to once again be the New Guy. More tardiness, more dropped books and trampled homework, etc. My fourth period cartooning class couldn’t have come a moment too soon. I knew that once I took my seat in that particular class, I would finally be in my element and everything else would fall into place, at least for the next hour. No sooner had I set foot into the room than someone exclaimed:

“Hey, that guy looks like Kevin Rush!”

Again, heads turned to regard me. And again, I started worrying what the exact reputation of this Kevin Rush guy was.

I met Kevin Rush a few days later. Woodinville had been the Rush family’s mysterious destination that none of the kids at Sunset had been able to recall. He was indeed a prolific and talented artist who had an imagination and sense of humor similar to, if more bizarre than, my own. We became friends, but never really got very close. We always had the same art classes and crossed paths in a few others, but our circles of friends were a tad too divergent for any lasting relationship at that age.

There is a small twist to the story's ending, for those who share my love of irony. See, the fact is that neither Kevin nor I thought we had any real resemblance to one another. We just couldn’t see it. Oh sure, his hair was similarly colored and had a similar wave to it as mine. We were both below average height. But as far as the two of us could see, we were far from being twins separated at birth.

Which reminds me: Hey Kevin, if you’re reading this, just ignore people if they tell you that you look like a porn star named Doctor Cocktopussy. He looks as much like you as I do. Which is not at all.

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About kirkstarr

I draw pictures for a living.
This entry was posted in Can I Say Something? and tagged , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

4 Responses to It’s A Small World

  1. Emmi says:

    Whoa, that went beyond the "Small World" guidelines of the question. That's just spooky! It's like a good reincarnation story, except you were both alive at the same time!
    It must have felt nice to find your Doppelganger. Mine is MIA. I've had people all across NE stop me and say, "Don't I know you from somewhere? You look like this girl I know". I would give my left arm to meet this twin of mine. 😉
    ps Dr. Cocktopussy? You've got quite the vivid mind! 🙂 🙂 🙂

  2. CrowSeer says:

    Not quite the same thing, but the last job I had, I ended up working with a girl named Beth. She was a petite blonde, slightly snooty, and she was almost a dead ringer for a girl I'd been at school with, also called Beth. I mentioned this one day, and it turns out that in the evenings they both worked at the same pub! Of course this is a small town, but it still struck me as odd.

  3. GinBaby says:

    Heheh. How awesome.

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