Midwest Man Tired of Being “Brad Pitt in Disguise” at Local Bars
Dan Miller looks exactly like Brad Pitt, and it’s ruining his love life. Tired of the endless attention and being mistaken for a movie star, he just wants someone to love him for himself.
Davenport, Iowa — Dan Miller, 44, has a problem most men would kill for: he looks almost exactly like Brad Pitt. Strangely, in the Quad Cities area, Dan has also spent most of his adult life being Brad Pitt. The trouble is, he’s come to hate it.
“Every Friday night it’s the same thing,” Miller sighs, perched on a bar stool at O’Malley’s Pub. “Some woman waltzes in, orders a Cosmopolitan, and suddenly I’m Brad Pitt filming an indie drama in Davenport. Like Brad Pitt is hanging out in some local bar, surrounded by cornfields, watching Friday night karaoke.”
Miller’s resemblance is uncanny. Golden hair, chiseled jaw, smoldering eyes—he’s basically a walking, breathing billboard for ‘Meet Your Fantasy Star Now.’ The downside? “They’re not interested in me,” Miller laments. “They want Brad Pitt. And then I have to smile, pretend I’m shooting a movie here, and—somehow—carry their emotional baggage home.”
“I dated some of the best-looking girls on campus" –Dan Miller
It’s a moral hangover he’s grown tired of. “It was great in college,” he admits. “I dated some of the best-looking girls on campus—and some of their moms too. That was educational, for sure. I mean, night after night of meaningless sex sounds fun, but eventually, it just gets old. If I’m ‘in character,’ no woman will turn me down. If I try being Dan, it’s like I’m radioactive.”
One night, after a particularly racy round of strip poker while channeling Ocean’s 11 Brad Pitt, he woke up to an empty apartment and a note taped on his fridge:
"Thanks for being so sweet, Brad. Call me?"
He called her back, and she was thrilled to hear from him, but insisted on calling him Brad. When he told her his name was actually Dan… she hung up.
For years, Dan tried to fight it by being casual, aloof, mysterious. When that failed, he started gaining weight, thinking maybe if he looked more ordinary, women would notice him. It didn’t work. Instead, they assumed the extra pounds were for a gritty emotional role being filmed locally. Dan groans, “Apparently, even fat Brad Pitt is better than Dan Miller.”
“Calm down, ladies. I just look like Brad Pitt.”
These days, Dan tries subtle resistance: he wears a T-shirt that reads, “Calm down, ladies. I just look like Brad Pitt.” It doesn’t always work. “They read the shirt, laugh, and then ask if I can quote lines from some movie,” he says. “I politely respond, ‘Sorry, Brad’s on a juice cleanse. I’m just Dan tonight.’”
Even so, Miller still gets propositions: a wink here, a whispered line about a ‘secret shoot.’ He smiles, knowing the fantasy ends when the lights go out. “I just want someone to like me—terrible jokes, bad dancing, all of me. Not the Brad Pitt in a cornfield fantasy.” He sighs and glances around the empty bar. “I just want a real relationship. Someone who sticks around after Brad. It’s a cruel curse, having this handsome face.”
Maybe the T-shirt will finally work.
“Every Friday night it’s the same thing,” Miller sighs, perched on a bar stool at O’Malley’s Pub. “Some woman waltzes in, orders a Cosmopolitan, and suddenly I’m Brad Pitt filming an indie drama in Davenport. Like Brad Pitt is hanging out in some local bar, surrounded by cornfields, watching Friday night karaoke.”
Miller’s resemblance is uncanny. Golden hair, chiseled jaw, smoldering eyes—he’s basically a walking, breathing billboard for ‘Meet Your Fantasy Star Now.’ The downside? “They’re not interested in me,” Miller laments. “They want Brad Pitt. And then I have to smile, pretend I’m shooting a movie here, and—somehow—carry their emotional baggage home.”
“I dated some of the best-looking girls on campus" –Dan Miller
It’s a moral hangover he’s grown tired of. “It was great in college,” he admits. “I dated some of the best-looking girls on campus—and some of their moms too. That was educational, for sure. I mean, night after night of meaningless sex sounds fun, but eventually, it just gets old. If I’m ‘in character,’ no woman will turn me down. If I try being Dan, it’s like I’m radioactive.”
One night, after a particularly racy round of strip poker while channeling Ocean’s 11 Brad Pitt, he woke up to an empty apartment and a note taped on his fridge:
"Thanks for being so sweet, Brad. Call me?"
He called her back, and she was thrilled to hear from him, but insisted on calling him Brad. When he told her his name was actually Dan… she hung up.
For years, Dan tried to fight it by being casual, aloof, mysterious. When that failed, he started gaining weight, thinking maybe if he looked more ordinary, women would notice him. It didn’t work. Instead, they assumed the extra pounds were for a gritty emotional role being filmed locally. Dan groans, “Apparently, even fat Brad Pitt is better than Dan Miller.”
“Calm down, ladies. I just look like Brad Pitt.”
These days, Dan tries subtle resistance: he wears a T-shirt that reads, “Calm down, ladies. I just look like Brad Pitt.” It doesn’t always work. “They read the shirt, laugh, and then ask if I can quote lines from some movie,” he says. “I politely respond, ‘Sorry, Brad’s on a juice cleanse. I’m just Dan tonight.’”
Even so, Miller still gets propositions: a wink here, a whispered line about a ‘secret shoot.’ He smiles, knowing the fantasy ends when the lights go out. “I just want someone to like me—terrible jokes, bad dancing, all of me. Not the Brad Pitt in a cornfield fantasy.” He sighs and glances around the empty bar. “I just want a real relationship. Someone who sticks around after Brad. It’s a cruel curse, having this handsome face.”
Maybe the T-shirt will finally work.
