Jogging The Old Memory Banks...

After reading a wonderfully humourous entry by Journaling Woman about WPP, I had to tell this true tale of mistaken identity....so blame her.

For years my sister, Beverly, lived out of state.  She returned and opened a real estate business, while I still worked for (and always have) the postal service.  We were then about the same weight (before the love of sweets attacked me), same height, same coloring, blue eyes and same length of hair but also very different in appearance.

Beverly began to report problems.  "A big hairy man grabbed me at the meat counter and swung me around and said he was so glad to see me, I said put me down!"  I said, oh, that was Hokie, haven't seen him for awhile, he's back, how is he?  She stiffly said I did not ask.

People would stop her and ask her postal questions.  She went to a furniture store in another town and the guy was following her grinning and just talking.  She asked, do I know you.  He laughed and said why, yes, I sold you two recliners yesterday.  No, she said, I have never been in this store.  When they talked, they discovered it had been me in uniform.  The guy said I thought you were Gail with her clothes on!

I, with my weird sick sense of humor, thought this was all wonderfully funny.  It opened some doors for me, I could do things and deny it!  I could say oh, that was my sister...

I began to feel sorry for her and had a shirt made for her birthday.  Bright red with "I am Beverly" on the front and "I am not Gail" on the back.  Beverly made sure she always wore it to town.

Darn, when I think of the things I could have done...