reunion
i'm lousy when it comes to history. the memorizing of fascinating dates and interesting places... this is not in my arsenal, but i tell myself it's okay because when it comes to the people and places i personally deal with, my memory is extremely reliable. in fact, when it comes to matching up names and faces, i'm pretty awesome.
because my memory really likes faces.
so last week, when i ran into someone who looked vaguely familiar and seemed to recognize me, i wasn't surprised when my memory told me his name. i was surprised when my memory then took off. as in, left the building. locking the door behind it. laughing maniacally and leaving me to fend for myself in this cold, cruel world.
i then had a five minute conversation with a person who seemed genuinely upset that i didn't remember him. upset and content to watch me squirm. it went just about as badly as a conversation could go and this mystery man cut me no slack. when he finally walked away, i crumpled down in a chair next to a girl pretending to read a magazine. she looked over at me and said, "wow."
i nodded and said, "i'm actually sweating through my shirt."
"ya," she said, "that was bad."
"it was. it was really bad."
"ya. it was."
and then we sat in silence.
see, and at first i was embarassed. then i worked my way to annoyed. then i decided this guy was obviously a jerk and i might as well forget him again and then i was content.
THEN, three days later, my memory came back for a visit just long enough to make me suspicious of something. i looked through my journal from 10 years ago and yes, it's confirmed, i officially don't remember people i go on dates with.
more importantly, how is it that i turn out to be the bad guy so often in my own stories?
because my memory really likes faces.
so last week, when i ran into someone who looked vaguely familiar and seemed to recognize me, i wasn't surprised when my memory told me his name. i was surprised when my memory then took off. as in, left the building. locking the door behind it. laughing maniacally and leaving me to fend for myself in this cold, cruel world.
i then had a five minute conversation with a person who seemed genuinely upset that i didn't remember him. upset and content to watch me squirm. it went just about as badly as a conversation could go and this mystery man cut me no slack. when he finally walked away, i crumpled down in a chair next to a girl pretending to read a magazine. she looked over at me and said, "wow."
i nodded and said, "i'm actually sweating through my shirt."
"ya," she said, "that was bad."
"it was. it was really bad."
"ya. it was."
and then we sat in silence.
see, and at first i was embarassed. then i worked my way to annoyed. then i decided this guy was obviously a jerk and i might as well forget him again and then i was content.
THEN, three days later, my memory came back for a visit just long enough to make me suspicious of something. i looked through my journal from 10 years ago and yes, it's confirmed, i officially don't remember people i go on dates with.
more importantly, how is it that i turn out to be the bad guy so often in my own stories?
Comments
As for why you turn out to be a bad guy in most of your stories, I think it's because you have a bad press agent, or that you need one period. I mean, Tom Cruise fired his press agent, and everyone came to think he was a crazy.
Don't think of yourself as a bad guy; you're more like an anti-hero.