My mini-me

I've talked before about my pretend nemesis. This little douchebag is my mini-me.

Matt joined our Second City improv class kind of late in the cycle -- second or third term, maybe. He immediately made a huge impact on our highly dysfunctional, marginally ept(?) group. It's an indication of my delusion that, at the time, I felt like, "Whoa, this guy's as good as I am, maybe BETTER!" As if that can happen.

In retrospect, he was WAY better. Than all of us. So yeah, he's one funny little fucker. I hardly ever get to see him, but lately we've run into each other a lot. Last week we both got booked on that multi-day commercial shoot. And this week we're both going to Louisville, having snagged the two roles available for this shoot, too.

Hilariously, both weeks Matt got the 6 am call and I got the 8 am. Heh. He's playing fast-talking hotshot banker opposite the football coach, and I'm playing slick, smarmy banker opposite the basketball coach.

Mini-me. Only in terms of physical stature. As far as talent, I'm his mini-me. Or maybe his Scott Evil.