Being Martin Shkreli must be tough, but not nearly as tough as being the guy who looks like Martin Shkreli.
Just ask Graham Dunn — an NYU Local writer who claims to be getting harassed on the street on account of his uncanny resemblance to “Pharma Bro.”
“It never came up before I moved to New York,” Dunn explained in a blog post Monday.
“In my hometown, I went about my business without harassment,” he said. “But in Manhattan — I get stopped on the street, confronted in restaurants, and occasionally insulted from afar.”
As Dunn describes it, it would appear that his “dark hair and eyes, stubbly chin-neck combo, greasy parted hair, and general posture” make him a dead-ringer for the widely despised Shkreli.
“Some guy threw something out of a car once and said: ‘fu– you!'” Dunn told The Post about his experience. “It’s really not so much a safety burden as it is a social burden.”
The former pharmaceutical CEO-turned-convicted felon has garnered quite the reputation in recent years after hiking up the price of the AIDS and cancer drug Daraprim — with articles dubbing him the “worst person on earth,” among other things.
He is also loathed for owning the Wu-Tang Clan’s highly coveted “Once Upon a Time in Shaolin” album, which he regularly shows off and plays during live stream videos.
So, needless to say, looking like the notorious pharmavillain has its drawbacks.
“For what it’s worth, I try my best not to look like Shkreli,” Dunn said. “I’ve started cutting my hair shorter, standing up straighter, and dressing less like someone who offered to bail out Bobby Shmurda. There are some things I can’t change, like our shared lack of a proper transition from chin to neck, but I’m taking steps nonetheless.”
Describing how he first discovered his peculiar problem, Dunn recalled how he was accosted by “a young man in a yarmulke” who was “flanked by a young lady half his size.”
“My roommate and I were walking up Third Avenue, groceries in hand and sharing a laugh about something or other,” he said. “It was a weekend, so I was dressed comfortably if slovenly — a hoodie over greasy hair, my shoulders hunched, and a five o’clock shadow rearing its head. I wasn’t focused on my appearance, though. I would soon find out, however, that others were.”
After the man yelled out to him, Dunn said the individual began staring at him in a funny way — as if he was trying to decipher who he was.
“Can I help you?” Dunn remembered saying, thinking he wanted directions.
“Are you Martin Shkreli?” the man asked.
Dunn stared back at him, “blinking in confusion.”
“Had this man really asked me if I was Martin Shkreli, former CEO of the company that jacked up the price of Daraprim, becoming the most hated man in pre-Trump America in the process?” he said. “’What?’ is all I could manage, my confusion and resemblance to the pharma bro angering the man further.”
While Dunn could have simply denied being Shkreli, he said the shock of being compared to the 34-year-old “douche” had thrown him for a loop.
“In my flabbergast, I couldn’t accomplish the simple task of denying the accusation — no! I’m not the smarmy a–hole who got banned from Twitter just by being smarmy and a–hole-ish! — so I decided instead to stammer my way through something resembling an apology and an excuse while walking away,” Dunn explained.
While the incident has stood with him, it wouldn’t be the last time that the writer would have to hear the comparisons.
“Last year at a Halloween party, I got plenty of compliments on my Martin Shkreli costume, which is to say I was wearing a sweater and hadn’t showered,” he said.
“If you see me in the street, know that I sympathize,” Dunn added. “He’s a terrible douche, and I would give him a piece of my mind, too. But before you stop me, just remember that he’s in jail and, you know, not a junior in college.”