I just had the most horrible experience. There I was, minding my own business, watching “My Dinner With Andre” so that I could mention watching it to people in passing and they’ll think I’m better than them. All of a sudden out of nowhere Wallace Shawn, who we can all agree has always been incredibly old, casually offers up that in that movie, he is 35 years old.
That’s. Not. possible. I’m 36!
At first, I thought “What an odd choice to make the character so much younger than the actor, especially when he’s playing himself” but I looked it up, and sonofabitch he was right!
It’s a real headscratcher because both the character and the man playing him are actually younger than I am, and yet Wallace Shawn is very, very much an adult in this film. This has to be a glitch in the matrix or something right? Wallace Shawn can’t be 35 in this movie because I’m already 36, and I’m still in my twenties! Wait. Oh. I never said that out loud before. Hmm.
I’m not old! This doesn’t make any sense! When I look at myself in the mirror I don’t look like Wallace fucking Shawn, I look like me! Only older! Oh. Fuck.
Hang on… am I old? Is this how I find out I’m old now? Am I supposed to be bald and own sweaters and shit? Am I supposed to sit at fancy restaurants listening to guys like André Gregory vamp poetic about theater and existentialism and like, not really get it all but deep down desperately want to, or whatever the fuck?
Wait, does that mean this is how my life turned out? This is me, fully formed? That sucks! I know 20 years is a long time to work at a bookstore, but in the back of my head I always still assumed I would grow up to be something cool, like a famous artist or a spy! Can I still be a spy? Let’s see, googling Sean Connery + James Bond + age and… 33?! James Bond was thirty fucking three?! Oh my God… it’s over!
Wait… hang on. Yeah. Okay. I just remembered. I’m actually 39.