Having been mistaken for the Grammy Award-winning musician more times than I care to admit, I can recall two particularly memorable encounters.
The first occurred at a bar, where a tall blonde bought me a drink, convinced I was him. After I cleared up the misunderstanding, she stayed, and we enjoyed a few more drinks together.
Somehow, our conversation drifted from music and life to a rather peculiar revelation. She had a deep dent in her skull and, I kid you not, wanted me to put my finger in her divot. Needless to say, I retreated hastily.
The only time a man mistook me for Mr. Joel was on a subway platform. A Black fellow kept circling me, staring intently. Expecting the worst, I was getting ready to throw down.
After walking around me three times, he finally approached with a broad smile, extended his hand, and asked if I was Billy Joel.
Relieved, I shook his hand and jokingly replied, “No, we White guys all look alike.” He burst out laughing.
Personally, I always fancied myself a more rugged, better-looking version of Bruce Willis or Jason Statham, but who would have guessed the Piano Man was such a babe magnet?
~ By Giovanni di Napoli, November 4th, Feast of San Carlo Borromeo