Beastie Boy

Last night, D and I went down to the "Local Cure" for a pitcher of Blue Moon. The bartender was a man I used to work with ages ago at the Morrison Inn. I gave him my card to pay up and we snaked to the back where there was actually a table to sit at.

When he ran back to deliver some drinks, he came up to our table and said, "Do you have a sister named Jennifer?"

"No," I told him.

"But you work for Westword, right?"

"Yes," I said, now getting curious. "How did you know that?"

Turns out, he has a buddy who apparently dated Jennifer Taufen some years ago; they'd seen my name in the paper and had long wondered whether I was any relation. Then he saw my name on my card and put two and two together.

I assured him that I have no sisters, but told him I used to work with him at the Inn back in '99. "God, that was forever ago! What was I like? Was I nice or was I an asshole?"

"No, you were nice," I reassured him. "I used to call you MCA because of your tattoo." (He has a Beastie Boys tatt on his shoulder and looks a lot like Adam Yauch, hence the nickname; I used to joke with him that I knew he was sick of touring and wanted a quiet life as a server, and I wouldn't blow his cover.)

He laughed and that was the end of the interaction. I just found it funny -- what are the odds of someone I used to work with recognizing my name? He's the first person ever to do that!