I was standing

on the corner of Roosevelt and Canal the other night, waiting for a friend to finish his cigarette so we could go into the diner. I had my back to the street. I was wearing a black t-shirt and khaki shorts, and definitely did not have a grill in my mouth.

Somebody behind me shouted something at me. I turned around. There was a car full of girls at the traffic light, all looking expectantly at me.

“What did you say?” I asked them.

“Are you Miley Cyrus?”

My friend burst into laughter. The light turned green, and a Honda Civic rear-ended the car full of girls who thought I was Miley Cyrus. The drivers sped through the light and then pulled over to examine the damage.

When we walked into the diner, everyone in it was laughing. They had seen the whole thing.

I got my milkshake for free.

 

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