Of Glasses and Doppelgangers
Yes, I’m still blogging.
Thanks for the lack of faith in my ability to follow through. I just took the holiday(s) off, but that allowed for a plethora of lessons I’ll be getting to in the coming days (including flu shots, successful miming and Black Friday failure).
But today, let’s discuss how I’ll buy anything from anyone who says I look like Eva Mendes.
This learning process technically started a week ago when I decided it was time to buy new glasses. The glasses I previously wore are about 12 years old. Not only has my prescription since then gone from bad to worse, but round wire-rimmed styles were apparently fashionable at the time. Wearing them today, I look like Harry Potter.
To be fair, the glasses weren’t that great at the time either, and I switched to contacts almost immediately. Glasses on my face = not cute. Over the years, I tried to purchase new glasses, but there wasn’t a single pair that looked remotely good on me. Friends and sales associates who attempted to help also agreed: stick to contacts.
But after hearing another lecture from another optometrist, insisting that I need to give my eyes a break from constant contact wear, I decided to be responsible and buy a new pair to wear around the house (because lord knows I have no business wearing glasses in public).
So last Saturday, I decided to pop into a local shop – just to browse; not to buy. The sales associate – who, first of all, was quite a dapper young lad, clearly giving him the advantage here – insisted he had seen me before and thought I was in the shop just a few days ago. After assuring him that it was my first time in the store, he kept trying to place me while handing me a few frame options – some good, most not so good, all more than I wanted to pay. Then he placed a brown-framed pair of glasses on me, paused and said: “I know why you look familiar: you look like Eva Mendes.”
Sir, you have just made a sale.
Sure enough, following the Eva Mendes reference, my ego was so receptive to compliments on the frame options that I knew I was not walking out of there without a new pair of glasses. So much for browsing only. To make it more pathetic, the final three options were frames he picked out because they were most like the pair Eva wore in Hitch.
Not surprisingly, I bought the frames I was wearing when he first made the Eva Mendes comparison. Come on, Lindsay – have some self-respect.
But the day gets better… Later that evening, while celebrating Kate’s birthday at a local pub, the night got off on the wrong foot because bartender opened my tab under “Lindsay” instead of “Hyman”, thus ruining my drink ordering entertainment for the evening. Because yes, 15 years after learning its alternate meaning, I still find my last name hilarious. But then, the bartender passed me my drink and said: “has anyone ever told you that you look like Eva Mendes?”
Sir, you are the greatest mixologist that ever lived, this is the most exceptional gin and tonic I’ve ever imbibed, I no longer care about my last name, and you have just secured yourself a fine tip.
Yeah, it was rail. But it doesn’t end there.
Yesterday, following the Patriots vs. Eagles game (what up, Philly?), I decided a celebratory peanut butter frozen yogurt treat was in order. I walked into Pinkberry and quickly learned that peanut butter was only a seasonal flavor and it has been replaced by pumpkin. Blower. As I turned to walk out door, the kid behind the counter said: “hey – you look like that girl from Hitch. What’s her name?”
Sir, her name is Eva Mendes and I’ll take a cup of the pumpkin.
But if you remember, as we established on Wednesday, I don’t like pumpkin pie, nor anything else pumpkin flavored. But you better believe that compliment-topped pumpkin FroYo was de-licious. Embarrassing, Lindsay. Embarrassing.
To be fair, this isn’t the first time Eva Mendes has named my doppelganger, but it sure did sway my buying habits. I get the Eva reference every now and again when I wear my hair straight with side-swept bangs, and top it off with, you know, a shower and some mascara:
Sheer luck. I mean, I’ve also been called Jordin Sparks:
And Michelle Obama:
So, it really depends on the day, or rather, on the hair.
So what I learned: Clearly, I’ll buy anything from anyone who says I look like Eva Mendes.
More important… What you should have learned: If you need a favor from me, try leading with: “Hey Linz, you look like Eva Mendes today”. You just might get a kidney.