Homonym

(In the interests of privacy, names have been changed in this story. But I haven't spoken to these people in close to a decade anyway.)

I had two friends in university, Sarah and Matthew. Yes, I had lots of other friends (loads in fact), but these were two of them. Now Sarah was a little ditzy, and Matthew was, how do you say, a bit different-looking. Not to be nasty, but Matthew was quite egg-shaped, and the corners of his eyes had a bit of a downward slope (yes, that does have something to do with the story).

Anyway, one day Matthew came to uni with peroxide-blonde hair. He was sitting in a cafe with me and Sarah, talking to us about his new look.

"You know," he said in a long-suffering tone, "ever since I got my hair peroxided everyone's been telling me I look like Eminem."

At this, Sarah slammed the table with both hands flat, and her face lit up like she had just solved the Rosetta stone.

"That's it!" she said, "You do look like an M&M! You look like the peanut M&M!"

(pause)

"No Sarah. Eminem. The rapper."

To her credit, she didn't try to repair the situation. You have to respect that.