That One Guy

That One Guy was everywhere. Everywhere you looked. 18.03 Lecture? Bam, That One Guy, right behind you. Working the front desk? That One Guy. Family reunion? That One Guy. For a while there was a very plausible theory that That One Guy was actually one of a set of twins or triplets. Dare I say quadruplets? That One Guy was everywhere and nowhere all at once. Was he even real? Say you're there makin out with your girl, it's gettin all steamy, gettin all handsy, then you pull your head back and open your eyes. You were actually kissing That One Guy. Has That One Guy been your girlfriend this whole time? Many years later you're in the waiting room of a hospital. Your wife has been in labor for hours and is about to have your first child. The doctor comes out of the room. "Would you like to see your son?" A little tear forms in the corner of your eye. I'm going to be a father. Your wife is there, holding the precious miracle of life in her arms, swaddled in pristine white rags. A rush of emotions flows through every vein in your body, you feel a little dizzy, your breath is slow and deep. "He has your eyes!" Your wife smiles. All her pain has led to this, and it's all worth it. You're not sure if you'll be a good father, but you know in your heart you will do everything you can to make your son happy. You reach out and grab the soft bundle, as delicately as you possibly can. You gently move the cloth to get a better look at his face. Only he doesn't have your eyes because, you guessed it, your newborn baby is actually That One Guy. You're paralyzed, gasping for air, gasping for words. "Is everything alright?" The doctor asks. You turn around. The doctor is That One Guy. Your eyes are now thrust open in fear. ''What's happening? ''You go to hand the baby back to your wife, but it's too late, she's now That One Guy. You panic, running from the hospital room. "Are you okay sir?" The receptionist is That One Guy. You stumble towards the elevator bumping into a gurney, pushed by That One Guy, carrying That One Guy. Sweating, breathing heavily, you make it to the elevator, jabbing the ground floor button and pressing door close as rapidly as possible. For fifteen seconds you're alone, gathering your thoughts. Fifteen seconds of peace. Fifteen seconds of sanity. The doors open. Everyone in the lobby is That One Guy. You rush out the door onto the street. Everyone, every man, woman and child is That One Guy. No. This can't be. You run down the street, as fast as you can, as far as you can. But you can't run forever. Your legs give up. You stop, hands on your thighs, bent over and struggling to breathe. You look up, and catch your reflection in a storefront window. No. You fall to your knees. No. Maybe you always knew. No. You are That One Guy. That One Guy was everywhere. Everywhere you looked.

I think his name was Raul.