It’s Nice to Meet You…Really

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.