I really thought today was gonna be a good day. It’s a short work week, Thanksgiving is right under our noses, vibes are high. I woke up in attack mode ready to dominate today. And then this lady at work called me Scott.
At first I didn’t even hear it, I just assumed she said something to me and I couldn’t make out the last few words. I didn’t even think twice about it. And then I heard it again. Something along the lines of “I agree with you, Scott” came out of her mouth, talking about me. I was Scott. I am Scott.
At this point I was pretty much frozen in my track. Was she messing with me? Could I have heard that wrong? She’s joking right? Scott? What? Total curveball that my brain was not equipped to handle at 9am on a Monday. In no way am I afraid to speak my mind, but there’s a time and place for everything. And I was NOT about to correct her and tell her that she got my name wrong. I understood at that moment that there was a possibility I’d have to answer to “Scott” for the remainder of my stint at this job, and, strangely enough, I was at peace with that. I was okay with that. (Note: another woman I work with calls this guy Todd when his real name is Josh. I’m pretty sure he knows and it’s a running joke now, but I had to second guess how much I really knew about these people.)
I needed some air.
Unintentionally I ended up eavesdropping on a conversation where I definitely heard my name, my actual name, Eric. When I got back to my desk, I didn’t know it, but everything was about to change. At this moment, I still cannot confidently say that this woman knows my name. But what I have since learned is that she called me Scott because I reminded her of Scott from Austin Powers, otherwise known as Seth Green. Seth FUCKING Green.
I have never had an issue with Seth Green. He’s somewhat irrelevant to me in the sense that I’ve never thought of him as good looking or bad looking. But once she told me I looked like him, I grew angry. Maybe if she would have said, “Scott from Austin Powers is my favorite movie character ever because he’s so charming and funny and cute and charismatic and funny!” we’d be having a different conversation. Maybe. But there was no explanation, she just called me the wrong name and covered her tracks with some garbage celebrity lookalike.
It’s no surprise but I spent three hours today looking at pictures of Seth Green. And what I’ve decided is simple: he’s not a good looking person. He is an ugly person, in fact. His hair is weird, his face is stretched out, his mouth is strange, and I think he’s a ginger. Full disclosure, I would have preferred to not be compared to Seth Green today. If I had a choice of having that happen and not having that happen, I would have elected to never hear the comparison. And because my thoughts belong to me and what I say reigns supreme in my world, I’m taking this comparison as nothing but the utmost disrespect.
Listen, I’m very self aware. I know what I am, and I know what I’m not. Self-deprecating humor is a popular topic of mine. But I also exude confidence through the roof. Do I have the jawline of Channing Tatum and the hair of Harry Styles? Not even a little bit. But that doesn’t mean I’m some homeless bum living in the streets. And I’m not Seth Green either. Or maybe I am now. Maybe I’ve been wrong all along, living a lie forever. Could be worse, someone once told me I looked like Paul Giamatti and I have daily suicidal thoughts because of it.