Is that you, Pascal?

Last weekend, I was at a friend’s barbecue, happily juggling a plate of ribs and a cold drink when I noticed a familiar face among the guests. Squinting against the sun, I called out, “Pascal, is that you?!” The guy turned around, and I got a lovely face full of his pork-sauce-coated grin. But instead of Pascal, it was an old neighbor I hadn’t seen in years. He laughed and said, “No, but I can definitely pass the ribs!”
It hit me that in my quest to spot Pascal, I’d confused someone entirely different for him, only to find out that the “Pascal” doppelgänger also had a knack for awkwardly catching barbecue sauce on his shirt. As they both stood there grinning, I realized I could easily mistake any of my long-lost friends for someone who equally resembled a walking condiment dispenser! The real punchline? I decided to stick to wings for the rest of the party.