“Would Robert Stanton please approach the check in counter at gate 23A?” The message repeated itself over the airport speakers. Two men stood and approached the counter. They were the same height and basic build, but that is where the similarities ended.

The man on the right had a full head of silver hair and was clean-shaven. He was dressed in a three-piece tailored suit. His golden cufflinks and Rolex watch were sure to impress everyone. His polished shoes sparkled with every step he took.

The man on the left also had gray hair, but it was cropped short, and the gray facial stubble that covered his chin was at least a week old. He was wearing faded blue jeans and a short-sleeve button-down shirt. On his feet were well-worn cowboy boots.

Because there were two attendants, they both approached the counter simultaneously.

“I am Robert Stanton.” “Bobby Stanton here.” The two men said at the same time. Confused looks passed between everyone present.

“I am beginning to see why I was called up here,” said the man in the three-piece suit. “I bet that you are flying to Denver also.”

“Yep, and now they have too many Robert Stantons on their flight manifest,” said the other man.

“Bobby Stanton,” said the bearded man sticking out his hand to shake, “Born and raised in Texas.”

“Robert Stanton of the New York Stanton,” shaking the offered hand with a chuckle.

“Wasn’t there some kind of show when we were kids where the contestant stood up and said I am the real Robert Stanton?”

“Yep, it always reminds me of when Tony Curtis stood and said I am Spartacus.”

“May we see some identification, please?” said the male attendant. The men handed their driver’s licenses to the attendant in front of them. The two compare the licenses. “This is getting weird,” proclaimed the male attendant while the female was imitating the intro to The Twilight Zone. “Both IDs have you listed as Robert Davis Stanton born on February 2, 1961.”

“Well, I’ll be damned,” swore Bobby.

“If I remember correctly, I was born in the afternoon sometime around 1 PM,” said Robert.

“I believe I was born right at lunchtime, mama always said she missed it because she was popping me out,” laughed Bobby. “That makes me the oldest.”

“Uhm ... Maybe not,” remarked the female attendant. “New York and Texas are in different time zones. Without knowing the exact time each of you was born, it’s really hard to say who is really older. But with all the twilight zone stuff happening so far, I would bet on it being the exact same time.” She replied with a forced giggle.

Everyone finished what needed to be done, the two Roberts went to the lounge to talk.

Robert was born with a silver spoon. Both his parents had come from money, accumulating more while raising him. Following in his parents’ footsteps, he only made more money. He went to the most elite private schools and had the best-paid tutors. He received a degree at an Ivy League college.

He had been a Playboy, most of his life, and had three failed marriages to prove it. He claimed five children and had three more that he paid their mother’s off. Then there are still several grandkids that he had never seen. He enjoyed life doing what he wanted when he wanted.