If you’re anything like me, you hate traffic. Anytime you get stuck for even a few minutes you start getting annoyed.

But, if you’re like me, you also have compassion and empathy. So when you realize the traffic is because of a major collision, you go from frustrated to concerned. You say something like, “I hope everyone is ok up there.” And if you’re anything like me, you mean it, you’re not just saying it so everyone else in the car thinks you’re a good person.

However, I know there are kindred spirits out there that can only keep that compassion going for so long. After a few minutes you start getting irritated again. You tell everyone in the car you’re “praying for everyone involved,” but really you’re praying for whoever is in charge of moving wrecked cars off the road to get there faster.

Then, if you’re like me, you feel bad about not feeling bad.

But, you look at your wife in the seat next to you, and if you’re like me, you’re good at reading people’s looks. You can tell she is also getting annoyed by the traffic so you say, “This wreck better be worth it when we get up there.” But then you exchange another look and realize you badly misread her first look and now your wife, as well as your buddy Kevin and his new girlfriend Kayla in the backseat, know you’re a bad person and your earlier efforts were wasted.

I KNOW you’re like me in that when traffic starts moving, even though you know you shouldn’t, you sneak a peek over at the carnage as you drive past. And, if you’re like me, you happen to catch a glimpse of the paramedics zipping up a body bag, but before they close it you see the body and it is a guy who looks EXACTLY like you. He’s even wearing the exact same shirt you’re currently wearing, the one with a picture of Saddam Hussein wearing a ball gag and holding a whip and it says “Sub/Dom Hussein.”

If you’re like me, your head starts spinning. It gets worse when you realize the wrecked car is the same make and model as the car you’re currently driving. Even the license plate is the same. And, on the side of the road is a woman you recognize as your wife, being comforted by a guy you could swear was your buddy Kevin. But that’s impossible, because they’re both in the car with you right now.

Then, if you’re like me, you look over to see if the version of your wife that’s seated next to you saw any of that. Once again, you’re good at reading looks, and the look she is giving is one of utter shock. But you can’t quite tell if it’s because she saw what you saw, or because she knows you weren’t supposed to see it.

I know there have to be some people out there like me who have all of this happen and, unfortunately, get a little distracted while driving and rear-end the car in front of them. If you’re like me, when this happens you get out of the car and you’re just hoping the other driver is not going to be too mad. But much to your surprise, the other driver is ANOTHER guy who looks exactly like you, also dressed in a “Sub/Dom Hussein” shirt, but a newer version of the shirt that uses the BBC Saddam Hiding Place graphic to suggest Saddam is hiding inside one of his own orifices. Suddenly, you see a guy running up behind this third version of you. As you go to warn yourself that someone is coming for him, a burlap sack is thrust over your head and everything fades to black.

Then, if you’re like me, you wake up in a bright room, alone, with shiny white walls. And I just know many of you, like me, would immediately notice the wires coming out of your torso connected to some sort of machine. The wires aren’t stuck to your skin, they are emanating from your skin. And the machine doesn’t have a screen or buttons like a normal patient monitor, it just has a large, blinking red light. If you’re like me you’re thinking, “Haha, what even is that thing?”

Then a door opens from a section of the wall where you couldn’t even tell there was a door and a guy in a lab coat walks in and, surprise, he looks exactly like you once again. And if you’re anything like me (and I now know FOR A FACT there are several people out there EXACTLY like me) you try to keep things light, so you look at this replica of yourself and you say, “Sorry if I was late, some ugly idiot was holding up traffic,” and you both laugh.