Being mistaken for Ryan Gosling

I don’t really see the resemblance, but recently more and more people have been telling me that I look like Ryan Gosling.

It’s kind of flattering, I guess, but I never know what to do with it. I mean, “Really? Ryan Gosling? Me?” I always thought that I looked more like a combination of Elvis Costello and Kevin Costner. At any rate, the world’s a strange place and if people have begun to believe that I look like Ryan Gosling, well, I guess I’ll just roll with it.

On the weekend a friend and I were having a drink at the Park Hyatt rooftop bar. A woman who looked kind of “something” was sitting at the bar drinking and I noticed that she kept looking over at us. Eventually, she approached our table.

Woman who was drinking alone in a hotel bar: “Sorry to interrupt you gentlemen, but I have to say, (looking at me) you really bear a striking resemblance to Ryan Gosling.”

Me: “Are you drunk?”

Woman who was drinking alone in a hotel bar: “I like to unwind after work. It’s been a stressful day. Do you guys like to party?”

At this point I realized she was a prostitute trolling the bar for wayward businessmen. I looked over at my friend Chris, rolled my eyes and excused myself to go to the washroom. When I returned the hooker was sitting at our table, a fresh martini in her hand.

Hooker: “Your friend Ace told me.”

Me: “Ace?”

Chris: “Yes.”

Me: “His name’s not Ace.”

Hooker: “I’ll call him whatever he wants. He’s cute.”

Chris: “My name is actually Aceington, but everybody calls me Ace.”

Hooker: “And you, (turning to me) so you’re Ryan Gosling’s older brother, eh? Did you two wrestle a lot as boys?”

Me: “We did.”

Chris: “They had a very complicated relationship.”

Hooker: “I can envision it. Have you ever thought about play-acting as therapy?”

Chris: “Yes.”

Me: “No.”

Hooker: “We could all act it out, as a kind of ritual of healing.”

Me: “Are you from California?”

Hooker: “I’m from the Valley of the Dolls, baby.”

Me: “I don’t know what that means.”

Chris: “I do.”

Hooker: “Why don’t we go up to my room and act it out? You can call your brother Ryan and maybe he can come by, or at least coach Ace from over the phone. Ace, will you play the role of Ryan?”

Chris: “Yes, this is an excellent idea.”

Me: “No, it’s a horrible idea. I’m married and I love my wife, and besides, Ryan and I haven’t spoken since the Notebook came out. It was my idea and he stole it. He’s a fucker.”

Hooker: “This is why we need the healing.”

Chris: “Sexual healing?”

Hooker: “Yes, sexual healing.”

She then took Chris and my hand and put them in a kind of pile with her own hands on the center of the table. She smiled weakly at us, lipstick on her teeth, her breath a hard push of olives and vodka.