It’s Nice to Meet You…Really
A few weekends ago, I went out to dinner to celebrate a friend’s birthday. When I arrived, the only seat available was next to a woman I did not know. (Before I sat down, my girlfriend had identified several women whom I did not know.) Within a few minutes, I knew the ages of her children, which town and grade she taught, her current workout routine and had quickly surveyed her outfit. These, of course, were all things I had a connection to.
About an hour later, the group headed to another establishment for a drink. As we were waiting for our drinks, my new friend asked, “Do you remember her name?” pointing to a blonde wearing a black and white blouse and black pants. I did remember she had two children though.
“No.” I said.
She rattled off a few names, none of which sounded familiar. “Hmm,” she said.
I looked straight at her and said, “To be honest, I can’t remember your name.”
She looked back at me. I had a moment of panic. I had offended her. Then she laughed. “It’s Nicole. You’re Jessica, right?” Then we both laughed.
I don’t know why I can’t remember names. I’ve tried saying them over several times when I first hear it – no luck. I’ve tried little mnemonic devices, for example, Jerry Juice or Robin wearing red. I get so wrapped up in what is the perfect match, that I forget the original name I’m supposed to be remembering!
When someone new joins the group, I am the one anxiously waiting for someone else to introduce the mystery individual. Or, even better, they introduce themselves! Few! Pressures off me and I get another chance to hear them name!
What I can remember are people’s faces and outfits, occupations and children. Good to know I am not completely hopeless!
So, if I meet you in the near future, I promise, I will wholeheartedly try to remember your name, really. I’ll get it the second time around.