Is That Me?

  

   "Is that you?" Asked the middle-aged American woman behind the counter as I put the book down.
   How could I answer? I just chuckled and said "No." I thought she was simply saying I looked like Bill. But I was wearing a cap, not a trilby.
   She stared down at the cover, saying "It looks like you," in a level tone, not laughing, barely smiling.
   She couldn't really think it was me, or that I would be buying a biography about myself. Yet the way she said it gave the impression that she could almost be thinking that.