"What? You're a slut?"
"You go by Sugar Cane?"
"NO. We just have a LOT in common."
"Yeah, I've been thinking about it. I'm pretty sure I've been reincarnated."
"You believe in reincarnation?"
"No. But I do now."
"Because I'm reincarnated from Marilyn Monroe."
"Ahhh. I see."
"Like, I know."
I've decided that the only people who believe in reincarnation are the ones who think that they've been reincarnated from some super-famous person. Of the billions of people in the world, of the hundreds of trillions of people who are dead (therefore liable to be reincarnated), YOU are the one who has been reincarnated from the most famous blonde bombshell in history. Yeah. RIGHT. Let's not mention all of the other people who have things in common with her, like the millions of tramps, the millions of pill poppers, and the billions of people with visible moles. And Marilyn has only been dead for a few decades, how long exactly does it take for someone to be reincarnated? Is it like, you die, BAM! you're someone else! Or does it take a while? It is a slow process? And isn't the point of being reincarnated that you DON'T know, and that you WOULDN'T have anything in common with them because it's not like, you die, and you're born again but with different parents! It's more of, you die, and then you're a bird. Or an ant. Or, as I've heard, a blade of grass. I think the ones who claim they were "Bridget Bardot" in a past life are really just incredibly insecure of the fact that really in their past life they were a "dew drop on a blade of grass" which is really worse than just being the blade of grass. And they know this. Therefore, they have to parade around telling everyone that they used to be Elvis Presley and they can prove it. "Check the lip." Lots of people can do that with their lip, you idiot. I must say these people are preferable to the goth kids who are like, "I was Hitler in my past life." or the inbred goth kids who are like, "I was Marilyn Manson in my past life." Yeah. You're a big fan.
I've been thinking about this, and I've come to the realization that if I have been reincarnated, I think I used to be a sumo wrestler. Or just a really fat man. That's right. No Grace Kelly. No Bette Davis. No Bette Davis eyes. Just some random fat guy. In a diner. That's right, a diner. I was that one guy who was always at the diner. Eating. (That goes without saying.) And people would come in, "Oh, hey George!" That's right, George. An everyday, common as they come, bland as hell, name. George. So they'd come in, "Hey George!" and I'd have this mouthful of apple pie in my mouth so I'd look up, fork still in hand, NO. Fork already planted into the pie ready to get the next bite, and I'd politely nod while continuously chewing, and they'd expect that kind of response since I am, after all, George the Fat Man in the Diner. George isn't curious about the other people in the diner; he's only curious about how fast he can devour that pie so he can order another without looking greedy. And the waitress. Oh yes, George is curious about the waitress. She would know me by my first name, and maybe me and her would have some little secret fling. (Not sex. George doesn't have sex because he's insecure about his blind spot.) (Blind spot being the area underneath his massive gut.) But they'd flirt a little from time to time. Genine (George notices that her name is Genine and that the alliteration makes them meant for each other.) doesn't mind that George is fat because her three ex-husbands were skinny and they cheated on her. Probably because Genine looks like Liza Minelli but with a perm. They might be in love. In fact, they are in love. They're in love but they're too old to go through the whole "marriage" thing again. (Again for Genine, that is. George is and always will be a bachelor.) And they can't be married if they don't have sex. And they don't. And it'd be awkward if your wife was serving you food and drinks everyday and cleaning up after your messes. (Which of course is something WIVES would NEVER do.) And that's it. There's no end. There's just George. And his blind spot. No babes, no alter ego, no dark past. Just pie. That's all George needs to be happy. That's all I needed to be happy. Not some famous life where I die young but it's all okay cause I've been reincarnated! WOO HOO! Quick! Someone beautiful and famous die now so I can be born as you but as a BABY! Shit. Too late for that. I'm already alive and the only person I know I once was was George the Fat Man. Maybe I will one day find my Genine, except it'd be a boy, a boy reincarnated from Genine. Which is kind of weird if you think about it but not really because George and Genine are soulmates. And if you've seen 'Dead Again' you'd understand. The point IS, George was a perfectly normal guy and I'm okay with that. Really. He's an average George and I like that! Unless George does have a dark past that I don't know about...like, George could have been The Godfather. I mean...it makes sense, really. Geroge...always at the diner...waiting? Like that one scene where everyone gets shot in the restaurant! I am Al! No, I am Marlon! I could have been The Godfather...I WAS THE GODFATHER. Ha! Take THAT, "Marilyn!" I was the mother fuckin GODFATHER!
But don't feel bad if you've been reincarnated from a Nobody. I don't know what that feels like, being The Godfather and all, but I'm sure you'll have better luck next time.