Spitting image

 The woman passed the table, stopped and looked back.

‘Here we go,’ Martin said.

‘What?’ Carol replied.

‘Wow, you’re …’

‘I’m not,’ Martin interjected.

‘Yes, you are. You’re that …’

‘I hear it all the time, but I’m not him.’

‘Really? You’re the spitting image.’

‘I like to think he’s the image of me.’

‘The image of who?’ Carol asked.

‘You know, that singer,’ the woman said.

‘You’re a singer?’

‘No.’

‘Sorry; I’ll leave you be.’ The woman wandered off.

‘I’d like to ring his neck.’ Martin sighed.

‘You’re really not him?’

‘Will you still date me if I’m not?’

A drabble is a story of exactly 100 words.