petite merde no. 4: identity crisis

A former student – now colleague and pal – has been a constant source of hilarity and forehead slapping for many years. I like to take credit for her good looks and brilliant sense of humour. I take absolutely no credit for her abilities as an eye witness and/or trust in humanity.

A Facebook Messenger exchange:

Anni: Ok, weird question, but is your dad on the gallery board? I’m 90% sure I ran into him the other night and he gave me a hug and we chatted and then he drove me home. His name was Bill! And he had a bit of a British accent. If it was him don’t tell him I had to ask you.

movita: Nope. WHO THE HELL DID YOU GET TO DRIVE YOU HOME?!

Anni: Seriously? He had a dark grey Benz.

movita: No. My Bill isn’t on any boards. And he doesn’t own a Benz. Also, he’s not supposed to drive at night. DUDE.

Anni: Please tell me you’re messing with me.

movita: I’m not. Also, HE’S NOT BRITISH.

Anni: Well who was it then?

movita: I DON’T KNOW!

Anni: Ok. I looked the board up online. Bill Gillis? You sure that isn’t your dad? WHO IS BILL GILLIS?

movita: Yes, I’m sure. My dad has the same last name as I do, bozo. And it’s not Gillis. But I’m sure your Bill isn’t a murderer. Right?

Anni: So far, so good. But I clearly knew him! I’ll let you know when I figure it out. You sure your dad doesn’t lead a double life?

movita: Pretty sure.

Two weeks later:

Anni: Just saw our friend Bill Gillis at the coffee shop! Great guy.

movita: I’m going to assume you accepted a ride home.

And a week after that:

Anni: It’s raining out and Bill Gillis isn’t here to drive me home. ?

Turns out Anni had met Bill Gillis a number of times in the past, and he was absolutely trustworthy. NOT THAT SHE REMEMBERED THAT AT THE TIME.

Recently, Anni sent me a photo of a man in a grocery store parking lot captioned:
Bill Beaucoup? That you?

It was not.