Here I am, walking down the hall at work one day minding my own business, but whom do I meet but—myself!
“Uhhhh, how’s it goin'”, I ask. “By the way, what name do you go by? Here in Finland it’s Timothy for me.”
“It’s Tim-needsabucktoo to you pal”, replied my alter ego.”I”m really kind of bummed having to be your evil twin.”
“Ahhh…it can’t be that bad”, I said,
“Oh, c’mon man, you are such a poseur”, he answered.”Besides, have you taken a look at OUR gut lately?”
“Yeah, WE could lose a few pounds,” I said, “But my Finnish friend Tuukka is on it. He gave me a diet and an interval workout program to lose fat.”
My negative nemesis blurted,”Look, I don’t like US at all. In my variation, WE are an angry, lusful, two-faced, spendthrift excuse for a human being. It’s hard to live with myself. How do you, you hypocrite?”
“But I’m the good twin”, I replied.
“Yeah right”, he babbled.”Name the last good thing you did for anyone.”
“Hmmmm…, let’s see. I washed the dishes and emptied the dishwasher at my host family’s house this week”, I noted.
“Big whoop! Whaddya want, a medal?, Tim-needsabucktoo answered.
“No, I am just answering your question, dimwit”, I exclaimed.
“See, See, you aren’t so righteous dude”, he blurted out. “You called me a name. Mommy, Mommy, Timmy called me a name!”
“You don’t have any idea what it’s like being me, Timbo”, Timneedsabucktoo said sadly.” I lay awake at night worrying: worrying about OUR marriage, OUR finances, OUR kids, OUR future.”
“And…?”, I asked, trying to traw my depressed partner out.
“I am homesick, I am in culture shock, and the work here is piling up”, Tim-too lamented. “So, what are WE gonna do about it sad sack. I ain’t dealin’ with all this alone”.
“I dunno, Too-man”, I said, seeking to comfort him. “Sometimes we just need a little break.”
“Whaddya suggest, Timo?–ya dingbat old poot”, my bad buddy asked.
“Well, how about something to eat. And OUR favorite, a cup of Joe”, I said excitedly.
“Well, that dishwater they serve in the university cafeterial doesn’t stir my drink much, T-man replied. “However, Timmy, I could use a bite, even if it is that salad crap we eat every day.”
“Hey, YOU were the one complaining about OUR stomach and OUR money woes”; I said. “Besides, it’s the best deal there unless ya wanna eat one of those prepacked sandwiches.”
“Ok, Ok”, my evil clone relented. “Let’s just watch OUR step going down the stairs. The last thing we need is a 20,000 grand stay in the hospital because of another busted ankle. When’s that damned KELA card coming in, anyway?”
“Look, Bad Boy. You know as well as I do, until OUR immigration situation with the PO-lice gets solved, we ain’t gettin’ one. We just have to hold our breath, hope for the best”, I said.
“And fear for the worst”, he added. “We is men without a country….money…..no home……homesick…fam….”.
It’s tough living with me.