Variant 2 reading Part 1

Read the text and answer the questions 1-5. Give only one answer to each question.

Just call me Bill

He is the defining face of our time: an icon and role model for the age of the global cyber-mogul. And, on this occasion at least, he isn’t even the real deal. Journalist Adam Sternbergh meets the alternative William Gates III.

Though he is, in many ways, unremarkable, and we have never met before, and he hasn’t given me any particular clues to help me pick him out, it’s not hard to spot Steve Sires in the lobby of his downtown Toronto hotel, simply because he’s the only man here who looks exactly like Bill Gates, the computer millionaire and head of Microsoft. ‘I figured you’d recognize me,’ he says, rising from his chair to shake my hand, in his Bill Gates glasses, with his Bill Gates hair, smiling his Bill Gates smile. ‘If you didn’t, then I guess I’d be in trouble.’

Steve Sires is a 42-year-old civil engineering consultant who married his high-school sweetheart on the day they graduated, runs his own business from his home just outside Seattle and, twice a month or so, gets paid to jet across the continent and look like Bill Gates. He’s hired for business functions mostly-product launches, industry seminars and conferences. He isn’t the only professional Bill Gates lookalike in the world-he knows of three others-but he is, by most accounts, the best.

Leaving his hotel, we walk over to a busy business-district restaurant. I’d made a reservation for two, under ‘Gates’. I’m worried this might annoy Sires, but he just laughs and admits that it’s something he’s never tried himself. The hostess doesn’t even blink when I drop the name. As she leads us to our table I imagine a few furtive glances sent our way, but they’re likely just that, my imagination. Sires assures me that he causes much more hubbub back in Seattle, where the real Gates is occasionally known to walk among the masses.

‘People have reported spotting Bill at Burger King or eating popcorn at a movie,’ Sires says. ‘Of course, who knows if they saw him or me? I wonder how many times people see me and think “Why in the world would Bill Gates be shopping in a cheap supermarket like Costco? “ ‘

After spending almost ten years working in Alaska, Sires moved to the Seattle area in the early 1990s; he had no idea why people kept stopping him on the street or asking him for stockmarket tips in the checkout line. ‘I didn’t know who this Gates guy was,’ he says. ‘Turns out I lived 20 minutes from his house.’

Sires initially shrugged off the much-remarked-on resemblance. Then, two years ago, his wife cut out a newspaper ad placed by a local agent who handles lookalikes-150 or so, from Bill Clinton to famous comedian, George Burns. ‘My wife said, “What do you think of this?” And I said “So?” and put the ad away.’

He didn’t know she’d already called the agent. ‘He got me a job at the grand opening of a performing arts centre. I did it for free. But my picture was picked up by Associated Press.’

Soon, Sires was travelling to events in Holland and Singapore as ‘Bogus Bill’, his appearance fee running to several thousand dollars.('Don’t quote the actual price, ’he says. ‘By the time this gets printed, it may have gone up.’)At events he’s introduced as the ‘special guest from Redmond’ or the ‘world’s richest man’, but never as Gates.

‘I’ll do some comedy, and by the mid-point of the speech, when everyone’s cracking up, I’ll put something in the script like, “I’ll take care of the Justice Department. I’ll just buy Washington.”

Afterwards people will line up for an hour to get his autograph. ‘When I sign books, I write “Bill Gates” in quotes,’ he says. ‘I’ve had people ask “What’s with this quote-unquote?” And I say, “Well, I’m not the real Bill Gates.” If they still don’t believe me, I’ll pull out my driver’s licence to prove it. I did that with one and she goes, “That’s just a fake you had made so you can trick people.”’

Our dinner proceeds without interruption, without a single autograph hunter rushing to the table. (After all this is Bogus Bill we’re talking about, not Bogus Ricky Martin.) I imagine an incognito evening like this is probably a relief for Sires, and I ask him if he ever purposely throws on a baseball cap and a pair of contact lenses to spend a day as, unarguably, Steve Sires.

‘No-but sometimes I do try to look more like Bill,’ he says. ‘It’s a kick.. I get to stay in nice places, try new foods, see new cultures. I count it as a blessing from God. How else to explain it?’

And so, by the grace of God, Steve Sires is famous. Actually, what he has is better than fame-it’s celebrity, without any of the complications of actually being Bill Gates. ‘I’ve got a great deal,’ he admits. ‘I get a little attention. It’s fun to get a little attention. But at the end of the day, I can always go home to my real life.’

As we’re finishing dinner, I ask him what he would say to Gates if they ever met. ‘I don’t know’, he replies. ‘But I had a dream once. We met on the street. I had the feeling he knew everything about me, my wife, my kids, where I lived, my job, everything. All he said was, “Hi, Steve.” That was it. But I could tell he knew everything. I’ll tell you, that was uncomfortable.’