Some of my friends meet other people who share their own name. When this happens, some of them believe that they are in the midst of a cosmic awakening. The fact that they have met another person with two arms and two legs and who also has the name Bob is somehow of great consequence. My friends give them godlike traits, often times putting them in the category of the immortal. Your name is Bob and so is mine. You must be a great guy. When, in reality, they both answer to this phrase repeatedly: "Shut the fuck up, Bob."
It is no mystery that many people on the planet share the same names, but this does not mean that we should assume that they are great people when we meet someone with our own name. My friend Markus is too trustworthy. When he met a man who shared his name at a local coffee shop, he said: "You are best, Markus. Anyone with the name Markus is the best." What Markus didn't know about the man was that he had been released from prison a month ago because of an incident with pedophilia. My friend Jimmy had met a man who shared his name at the healthy club. Jimmy went ahead and assummed to much: "You're the bomb, Jimmy." Jimmy made a hasty conclusion, and didn't realize that the man was going to commit armed robbery after he finished his set on the bench press.
There really isn't much in a name these days. It's best to say nice to meet you and then move the fuck on real fast.
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