Have You Ever?

Have you ever been driving around town and noticed a car that's the exact same make, model and color as yours, so you say "Hey, I just drove by myself!" and laugh?

And then you notice that the dude driving the car actually looks sorta like you and you're a little weirded out?

So you decide to follow the car just for the hell of it because you were on your way home and were headed in pretty close to the same direction it's going anyway?

And then you realize that you've followed this other car right into your neighborhood and are starting to wonder if it could somehow be possible that you've skipped through time just a little bit and are following yourself home?

And by the time he pulls into YOUR DRIVEWAY you're thinking you've totally lost it and it can't get any weirder?

Until he gets out of the car and he's wearing your favorite t-shirt you got at that awesome concert in college?

But as he's walking toward your front door you manage to get a grip on yourself and figure he's just a Jehovah's Witness or something and when you start to follow him up the sidewalk to have a big laugh together about what a wild coincidence this all is, he opens the door and walks right into your house?

And you follow him, or is it yourself, into your house and looking around you don't see him but notice some strange sounds coming from upstairs?

And when you go upstairs to find out what's going on this guy you followed is in your bedroom, on your bed, having sex with your wife?

So of course you just snap, grab a seven-iron out of the closet and starting beating the living crap out of the dude, busting his kneecaps and mangling his hands and totally working him over until he's a wheezing, twitching mess of broken bones and blood, right?

But suddenly you realize that if you really did skip through time than you're actually beating up your future self and in a few minutes you'll be the one on the receiving end of savage seven-iron justice so you stop?

But looking at the mauled mass of flesh laying on the bed in front of you, you decide there's no way your future self duplicate is going to survive without being in agonizing, soul-rending pain for the rest of his useless, miserable life so you end it for one swift, fatal blow to the back of the head?

And being hit on the back of the head flips the guy over so you can see his face and he doesn't really look that much like you after all?

And then you kinda wonder why there was a seven-iron in your closet when you've never even golfed in your life?

And you look around, go "This isn't even my house! What was I thinking?" and run out of there as fast as you can?

And when you get to the driveway and see your car parked behind the one you'd followed you realize that other car is the same kind as the one you had five years ago, not the one you drive now?

So then you just drive away and hope nobody saw your license plates and wonder what you'll say if they arrest you because there's no possible way anybody would understand why you brutally murdered a complete stranger?

But halfway home you sit up and think "Hey, what was my wife doing in that guy's house, anyway?!"

Well, have you?