So if there are two people on my Facebook friend list with nearly identical names—and by that I mean same first names and oh-so-similar last names—it would be easy to assume I would confuse the two.
Especially when, and this is important, one of them uses a kitten as their profile picture.
The other month, a woman popped up in my “Hey, it’s your friend’s birthday!” feed. Using only a glance, I figured it was the fitness instructor whose classes I like to attend. As one might expect of a fitness instructor, she’s in superb shape from top to bottom, with rips and cuts and curves aplenty to flaunt. It was Wednesday, her day to teach Body Attack, so I scribbled a little ditty on her wall: “Happy Birthday! In honor of your special day, I’m skipping the gym tonight and going out to eat pizza and get fat, just for you!”
Get it? It’s a joke; she’s a fitness instructor, and I was going to skip her class to eat unhealthy food!
Ha-ha! It’s like being clever, only not.
Anyway, a few weeks later I received another notice for my fitness instructor friend from that lovely birthday monitoring service, Facebook. Confused, I went to her wall and wrote, “Didn’t I just wish you a happy birthday? Geez, how many do you need a year?”
And that was that.
For about an hour.
Until my mind started putting together the pieces of the puzzle, and I decided to go scroll down her profile wall.
My “pizza and get fat” comment was nowhere to be found, so…
…where was it?
Turns out, I had left the comment on another woman’s wall, one whose name is two letters different from the fitness instructor. A woman who was, as chance would have it, a little larger than your average woman, but probably right in line with a legal resident of Mississippi.
That’s right, I went to the profile of a woman who was overweight and told her I was going to get fat in her honor.
Open mouth, insert foot.
Photo: Getty Images