Will the real ET#2, please stand up?

Some of our loyal readers have expressed concern about Evil Twin #2. Where is she, what is she doing, and wasn't a fact that she was kidnapped by aliens and now lives in trailer home compound in the Great Salt flats with many other alien abductees?

Because here at Evil Twin central we do a little investigative journalism now and then, I decided to go to New York City to hunt down the elusive Evil Twin #2.

Day one:
I arrive in New York City at about 4pm. I get lost. I call ET#2. I get lost. Realize I cannot lock doors because they are manual and don't want to reach over to get to them. Realize that I would not be a target anyway because I am driving a rented fire red Chevy Cobalt, aka economy plastic death trap.

Park a block away from ET#2 condo next to a yuppie looking sushi restaurant that is next to "No.1 Chinese" take out joint that has epileptic seizure inducing flourescent lights. Note to self on the oddness of gentrifying neighborhoods. Walk in her building and take elevator that must have been used to shoot crack den sequences on "Law and Order" to the second floor. After jarring elevator ride, get to her apartment.

She's alive! or is she? Is this person her alien doppleganger while she stays trapped in her trailer in Utah making macrome pot holders? This operation is going to require a little more time.

Luckily for me I have help. My college roomate, A, is visiting NYC from Hawaii and is staying with ET#2. A also has a boy from Hawaii, K, a hunk-a-hunk 'o' man who managed to deal with all of our silliness with his brav-ery-oci-tude. He is our Guy Friday for this mission.

Things are not looking so good. ET#2's apartment is too organized. I am worry, but have no oportunity to pull A aside and tell her my suspicions. After reveling in "on demand" cable television with ET#2's BF watching "School Ties," ET#2, K, A and I trek down to the East Village for some polish food. Then things start to swing in ET#2's favor, as we all consume large quantities of vegetables stewed in animal fat, sausages stewed in animal fat, and sweet potato perogies fried in animal fat. I do however start tp have my suspicion about K as he finishes/enjoys a side order of kasha. Is he not a California boy, but really a 75 year old jewish man in disguise? Hmmmm we will have to see.

Next, it was a stop to the rice pudding store, Rice to Riches. Forget about mission. Must focus on pudding.

We met A's sister and her fiance for a round of karoke in Korea town. Everyone has a good time. Standard Backstreet Boys and Madonna fare are met by rave reviews (our own of course).

We take scary taxi ride home. I fall asleep, but am informed by A that we encoutnered multiple near death experiences.

Since K's flight was early Sunday morning, we stayed up a little while longer talking about the old days, talking about the new days, and talking about the future days.

Day two:
We wake up at 11am. A makes us coffee and we drink it while listening to John Hodgman's "the Area of My Expertise" audiobook off of my ipod. While the day before ET#2 did not laugh, this morning we all laughed at crabs, deep fried cheesecake, and Missouri, a state somewhere west of here.

The three of us motivate to go to Jersey for the afternoon. We initially want to get deep fried hotdogs at Rutt's Hut in Clifton, but somehow get sidetracked into eating yummy korean soups in Fort Lee.

Everyone claims they are full and cannot eat anymore. We wonder around the japanese gorcery store. We buy snack cakes, ice coffee, and ramen. In the japanese food court, we decide to order the cream filled oban-yaki. They come in containers of six and are made to order. Hot off the skillet the three of us devour the first one. Hmmm after eating all night do we dare go for the second. Of course! Having passed the final test of eating more than what should be possible, confirmed that this was in fact the real ET#2.

The three of us returned back to ET#2's apartment and watched "Mr. and Mrs. Smith," not because it was good but because it was on HBO. I drive back to Boston. Mission accomplished.