When I had a doppelganger

When I worked at the sadly departed Boat Race, I had a doppelgänger. The Boy Wonder and I lived in Cambridge and I would quite often have people coming up to me and saying hello while I was out and about - I just assumed that they were people from the pub who recognised me because I am a delightful individual who makes a life-changing impression on those who meet me. Then people I knew from university started accusing me of ignoring them in town, and after a few times of saying 'I suppose I must have been in another world' I started asking for details and discovered that people were accusing me of being in places on days or at times when I wasn't. The final confirmation came when I went to the dentist - the lovely South African lady had her hands in my mouth and asked me how my children were. I told her I had no children, which seemed to confuse her as she started to decribe my son - apparently he was about four years old and had glasses. It was an awkward moment when I had to ask her to take her hands out of my mouth until she had worked out who I was, but I had to do it as I was worried she would undo all my orthodontistry with a careless flick of the wrist assuming she was in the mouth of someone with much more structural integrity. My mouth is a delicate palace of disaster, and after 2 operations, one transplant and years of wearing braces, I wasn't about to let some crazy lady loose in there without even knowing who I was. I don't know what happened to this person - presumably she was about teh same age as me, and if she had a son who was old enough to wear glasses when she was 20-ish, then he must be at secondary school by now. Since we moved out of town and I stopped working in a pub, I tend to get stopped on the street by strangers less and less anyway. But I do wonder what would have happened if we had met - would the world have ended, would it have been like looking in a mirror, or would we have both gone 'I don't look like that!'