Originally published Febuary 7th, 2001 at Uber.nu

The first time it happened, it was funny, I thought. It had a certain little charm to it that a full grown man would actually mistake me for the Man of Steel himself. "You wouldn't happen to be, and I know this sounds silly," said the man, a fairly handsome mid-twentysomething banker looking guy. He seemed almost sheepish, as though he should have known better than to ask but that a force outside of his control was putting the words into his mouth. "You wouldn't happen to be Superman, would you?" No, I said. No, I'm not Superman, but thanks, I said politely, though he looked more than a little disappointed.

I walked away from the encounter with a nice little bounce in my step feeling as though I could almost fly. Wait! Was my hearing better? I swear I thought I heard someone calling for help. No, I was just my imagination. I was getting caught up in the moment. I've heard that everyone looks like someone, that everyone has a twin somewhere in the world. I just never thought that mine would be the Boy from Krypton.

The second time it happened my girlfriend was there to witness it. We were walking through Washington Square Park when she noticed that a group of students were looking at us and pointing. When she and I found a seat around the fountain, two of them ventured up to us and looked around twice before asking, was I Superman? My girlfriend laughed but choked on a piece of her hotdog. I gave her a solid thwaak on her back and it dislodged from her throat. Tragedy averted. No, I said to them. No, but thanks. Again, as before, with severe disappointment they turned to walk away.

Hey, I called out to them. Why did you ask me that? They shrugged and said that they couldn't quite explain why, but they just thought I was him. I looked at my girl, who was still coughing from her near asphyxiation, and also shrugged. I certainly didn't look like him. My physique wasn't in near enough good shape. Too many nights spent in bars. I had no super-human qualities, which was not what I usually told girls, but in full disclosure was true. I didn't even dress in spandex, which was something I had toyed with in high school but soon decided that it wasn't my thing. Frankly, I was stumped.

By the seventh and eighth times, however, the whole Superman thing started to wear a little thin. No, goddamnit, I'm not him, and why the hell do you think so? No one could explain and I started to feel more and more frustrated with it. One night, after a little too much to drink and my self image bringing me down, I found an empty park and started to fling myself around to see if I could actually fly. The experience left me with nothing more than multiple cuts, bruises, tears in my clothes, and a feeling of nausea from the alcohol rushing to my brain. I stumbled home in the early hours trying to forget the whole excursion.

It's been months since the first time I was mistaken for the Man of Steel, and everyday it seems as though more and more people are asking me if I am him. I've stopped being bitter about it. I've stopped looking for similarities. Now I just shake my head, give a polite no and continue on my way. Still, when it's late at night, and I'm left to my own thoughts, it bothers me. I lay awake until dawn when I force myself out of bed and to the office for another days work. Sometimes I'm stopped once or twice and sometimes I'm not stopped at all. People just stare. I don't know why.

I curse you Superman, I scream to the heavens when I can't take it. I curse you.