Mistaken identity?

Since arriving in Barbados a year or so ago several people have come up to me and hailed me as a friend. Never one to willingly offend, I acknowledged the hail but quickly said that as I was newly arrived I thought that I was being mistaken for someone else. Well, that was all well and good as people said "You look just like X from St. John", or "You sure you not the twin brother of Y?"

Now things have taken a more serious turn. A man previously seen at one of my favourite Saturday hangouts, but unknown to me, whose name I will not mention--but will say only that he loves the "walkie talkie" parts of the pig in his souse, or a "balanced diet" of lean meat with some of the skin on, but not the snout and ears--told me something that shocked me to my own walkie talkies. He said that he had thought I was Police Commissioner Darwin Dottin! Why he changed his mind is not for this blog.

Now, those of you who say you are my friends will have to run to my defence. If this is true then I really need to tread more carefully on this little rock. This enforer of the law looks far better attired than I ever do in my "uniform" of polo shirt and shorts. But I must admit that there is a certain "gravitas" about the face of the Commissioner that I would like to feel that I have too.

So, all you criminals out there who have a grudge against the Commish, or those looking to show that they have no fear of lawmen, please ask for ID before you start beating either him or me over the head. My Dad used to be a police reservist in Jamaica, and I had his belt and whistle once, but no longer, so I cannot summon "back up" quickly. The little "Scandisk" chip in my mobile phone is the only source of back-up I have on my person usually. My head is tough from years of heading footballs but I feel could not withstand a blow from a 2-by-2. I drive a Suzuki sometimes but not one of those swish "Vitaras"; I have a more modest, if fast, model. But if you do feel the need to attack me, remember that I do not forget a face, so come masked.

I have never heard Commissioner Dottin speak but imagine--really hope--that he does not have either my impeccable English accent, or my occasional Jamaican patois. If I feel that this business is really a concern I will be looking for a T-shirt sporting "I am NOT Commissioner Dottin".

My informant is, I hope, the first and last person to make this mistake of identity.