Identity Crisis of a Southern Gentleman

I recently went on a date with a young man who literally morphed into Humphrey Bogart after a few whisky and ginger ales. He was a smart person, a psychology major at his university, with good taste is film, music and drinks. He was also a great listener, sensitive, and polite. I've gone on dates with less promising individuals in the past. A date turning into Bogart wouldn't have been so bad. Typically there is something appealing about the strong, silent type. I noticed as the night proceeded that he became less goofy "bad-joke kid" and more Bogart like. I wouldn't have thought anything of it, assuming that his similarities to the late great actor were purely coincidental. I had been drinking too, so I didn't mind the old-mannish way that he called me kid, as in "Here's looking at you, kid", while he lit two cigarettes and handed one to me. Who knows, maybe after a few drinks I start to sound like Mae West, flirting and winking all over the place. The problem is directly before the morphing (which happened somewhere in between drink number 2 and drink number 3) he gave his secret away and confesses that Bogart was is personal idol when it came to women and relationships. This made the transition impossible to ignore. He went through the change. He stopped smiling, and fiddling, his voice actually deepened. I suggested that he Netflix Woody Allen's Play it Again, Sam, which shockingly, he had never seen. Then I thought to myself, this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship.