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Writer's pictureShaun Reinert

You're him, You have to be! - This Kind Of Thing Only Happens To Me

Updated: Aug 31, 2020

So, this one didn't happen at a concert, it happened outside a Chick-Fil-A, but it later lead me to go to a concert...so it works out. Anyway here's the story:


In the fall of 2014, I was walking into the Chick-Fil-A in my city, with my wife and our then one-year-old son Daniel. This location has a long parking lot, it's only two rows, but it goes on for quite a while. The drive thru also has the entry from one of the rows (this is part of the story, I promise).


We park, and we're walking in, and this lady in her car just....stops. She's steady staring at me, glaring at me... In my head, I'm like "what is happening right now?" I think maybe she's lost and is about to ask me for directions somewhere or something like that, but that stare. What's up with that stare? She pulls forward a little then stops again, she turns around to keep looking at me. She then proceeds to BACK HER CAR UP and again, still staring.


By this time, we've walked up far enough, and we're next to her car. The window gets rolled down, and still...staring. I'm incredibly uncomfortable by this point, I know....something is up, but I don't yet know what, so I go for it: "ma'am, is there something I can help you with?"


What came out of her was something I was not prepared for, but good lord, I wish I was, because this could have been hilarious, instead of the incredibly awkward exchange that followed.


Her: I'm sorry, but are you Damon Fowler?

Me: *silence* (I'm taking in a case of mistaken identity)

Me (regaining composure): my apologies, I don't know who that is.

Her: Damon Fowler, the artist. You're him, you have to be!

Me: I'm really sorry, I'm telling you, I really don't know who that is. My name is Shaun.

Me (motioning towards my wife): That is my name, right?

My wife: *nods*

Her: Well, you seriously look JUST like him.

Me: I do?

Her: It's uncanny. I really thought you were him.

Me: Well thank you I think, sorry again for not being him.

Her: You sure you're not him?

Me: Yeah, pretty sure.

Her: OK then, sorry.

Me: No worries, have a good day.


By this time, my wife and son have gone inside and gotten in line. I join them and I'm crazy weirded out by what just happened. We place our order and grab a table. My wife and I begin talking and wondering who the heck this Damon Fowler guy is and do I really look like him? Enough so that a total stranger would mistake me for him?


I take to google, I want to see who this lady thinks I was. I google "Damon Fowler" and the results blew me away. I got it right away, I do look like this dude. When I saw him, my jaw hit the table, because it fell off of my face, my wife goes "what?" I flipped the phone around to show her and she was like "damn... you really do look like him."


Now, I WISH I had known about Damon Fowler before, because not only would the exchange with the random lady been less awkward, it would have been funnier, too. I could've said something like "naah, I'm not him, but I'm an official look-alike, we're kinda like Santa, how there's one, but then a bunch of others who look like him" or "no, but I play him on TV" or "don't speak to me, peasant!" OK, probably wouldn't do that third one, but c'mon, how much fun could you have with a person who thinks you're somebody you're not?


Not only did I learn who Damon Fowler was and what he looked like, I learned he's an awesome guitarist. He's a blues guy from Florida, and he plays a MEAN guitar. He's got a band, and he tours all over the country, pretty much all the time. Recently, he was on tour opening for George Thorogood. Dude is AWESOME.


The afternoon carried on like any other, but I was like "damn... I gotta track this guy down and tell him this crazy ass story."


I got my chance the following summer. In August of 2015, Damon Fowler and his band were playing at SPACE in Evanston, IL, so I trekked up there after work, no ticket (show was sold out), with the sole intention of meeting him and telling him this story. I found the venue, and made my way to the back, found what I assumed was their tour vehicle (the Florida plate gave it away), and just kinda waited around. Eventually a couple dudes from his band come out, so I plow right into my story and end it with "is he around? I gotta tell him this story!"


The band agreed that he and I look alike and one of them went and got him for me, I think they even warned him "dude, you're about to hear something really weird" but he was super cool, I laid it all out, the lady, the staring, the discomfort, the apologies, all of it... and he's just smiling and laughing a little. Eventually, he goes "yeah, I can kinda see it, too!" which made me smile. I told him "man, if there's ever an appearance or social engagement you have but you don't want to do, just hit me up, I'll do it for you." and that made him laugh more.


We said our goodbyes and I went on my way, having accomplished what I set out to do. We did get a picture of Damon and I together, because I just had to after all that.


Now that this has happened, I'm prepared for it to happen again, though I doubt it ever will. But if it does..... I'm glad it did, because it turned me on to a new guy to listen to, so for that, I'm grateful, and I'll tell this story every chance I get, for it remains another example of This Kind of Thing Only Happens to Me.


For reference, I've included a few pictures, alternating between myself around the time of this story and Damon and the final one is the two of us together. What do you think? Leave a comment and let me know!!!







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