There are few who wouldn't agree that I'm the hardest working baby in journalism. With that said, I have no problem admitting that I enjoy taking time to unwind from the work-a-day grind. Just the other day, I was at the day spa. I was just settling in to the hot tub for a hot rock bath and scalp massage (more of a tepid rock bath, but the principal still applies,) when who should I come across? I couldn't believe my huge blue eyes.
There, sitting across from me, was my long lost twin brother! I didn't even know I had a twin. Mom and dad denied it, and there have never been pictures of a twin, so I guess there must have been some kind of cover up.
It wasn't just his appearance than convinced me either. We had everything in common. When I moved, he moved. When I smiled, he smiled. It was uncanny! There were so many questions running through my mind; what was his name? Where had he been? Was he also among the few noted journalists who wear a diaper? But then it occurred to me, maybe I'd never heard of him because he had gone mad. Maybe he's a dangerous criminal who just got out of prison, jealous of my success and looking for revenge. Maybe he's my evil twin brother… his smile could be a trick to win my confidence.
Before I could process these thoughts, they came in to take us out of the tubs (in perfectly synchronized unison, oddly,) and there it ended. A very strange and wonderful experience for me. Witnesses still deny the presence of a second Brendan in that room, so I'm going to quietly let it go. But fear not, Bizarro Brendan, I will not forget you, nor that moment we shared at the spa.
