If I were Cliff Paul, lame insurance agent, I would never
forgive my mom and dad for the downright negligence and abandonment they
displayed in the moments and days after my birth. How did they leave the hospital without me, I’d
ask incredulously. When one gives birth
to multiple children, I’m pretty sure they don’t have the option to choose the
pick of the litter. They can’t go into
the nursery and say, I’ll take the one that looks like an NBA all-star, leave
the insurance agent looking one. Plus,
what kind of shoddy hospital did these people choose to deliver their twins in? Was leave your worst baby behind part of the birth
plan? Or is this just a hospital that makes
mistakes. Can you imagine a hospital
forgetting that a woman gave birth to twins?
And even worse, what kind of parents would believe their mistake? I must have dreamed the two heads I saw
popping out of your vagina dear, I imagine Cliff and Chris Paul’s father said
as they were handed one baby. It makes
no sense and could only exist in the world of insurance agents.
I like to imagine that first meeting between Chris Paul and
Cliff Paul. There must have been miles
upon miles of deep seated rage as he looked at the brother his parents chose to
keep or simply remember about. I
imagine he looked at Chris surveying the possible options. They could have both been all-star point
guards or at least Cliff could have been living well freeloading as a member of
the Chris Paul entourage. Instead, he
has taken on the life of an insurance agent, constantly dealing with idiot
drivers and a corrupt corporate system to which he both despises and
contributes to. His paradoxical nature
leaves him wide awake at all hours of the night pondering what could have been had
he never been abandoned that fateful day at what would later be ranked as one
of America’s worst hospitals. If he had
been taking by his birth parents, he may have never been sent to that Dickensian
orphanage and fallen in with Fagan and his gang only to have it fall apart when
Olivier Twist ruined all the fun. He
would have never rambled and gambled along those boxcars, drifting in and out
of thankless work until he had to do the right thing and shoot his best friend
Lenny in the back of the head. Life may
not have gone that way. Life could have
been like that show Entourage but alas, it was not to be.
I hope that Cliff Paul and Chris Paul meet in a public space
to keep the tensions down, at least for appearances sake. Cliff Paul would not like to be reminded of the
luxury he potentially missed out on because of one hell of a hospital screw up. I hope Chris Paul is courteous,
understanding, and also takes a blood test.
Just because somebody looks like you doesn’t mean you guys are related
(I found that out the hard way when I tried to fleece the actual Harry Potter,
but that is a story for another time young inquisitive muggle). I hope when Cliff Paul leaves his meeting
with his brother, he feels a sense of closure, and I hope he finds what he is
looking for when he gazes upon his birth parents for the very first time. I hope that he at least eggs their
house.
I wish you the best in your life Cliff Paul and hope that
you stop letting State Farm exploit your life for their commercials. You deserve better Cliff. You deserve better.
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