Sometimes, it’s the simple things people say that stay with you.
At one of the meetings, I talked to a couple of different people, but since it was just a social event kind of thing, I didn’t bother taking notes.
A few days later, I was at the second meeting, and one of the same people from the first meeting came over to chat.
I, of course, was drawing a complete blank for what his name was. I knew I had talked to him at the other meeting, I knew what we had talked about, but I couldn’t remember his name.
A few minutes into the conversation, I took the bull by the horns, and admitted, “I’m sorry, I know we met a few days ago, but I just can’t remember your name.”
“That’s OK,” he said. “When you came to town, you had to learn 300 new names.
“We just had to learn one.”
I’ve kept those words in mind since, and I remind myself of them each time I dread having to ask someone what their name is when I should know it.
Of course, I don’t think that same principle works of the name you’ve forgotten is your boss or your wife. Then you’re on your own.
Speaking of names, I have to also mention (and I may have done this before), but it used to upset me when I was younger and Mom was trying to get my attention for something.
I didn’t mind it too much when she said my sisters’ names first, but it got irritating when she remembered the dog’s name before she remembered mine.
Now, on to today’s literary question: I have two sisters, both younger than me. If I want to refer to one of them to someone who doesn’t know them, what term should I use?
If I refer to one of them as my older sister on the grounds that she is older than my other sister, many people will assume she is also older than me.
I have, a couple of times, gone the roundabout way of explaining they are both younger than me, and I am referring to the one who is closest to me in age, but I have noticed the eyes of the person I’m talking to start to glaze over and they suddenly remember an urgent appointment somewhere far away from me.