Do I Know You? As is my usual custom, I was utilizing our fine subterranean horseless buggies recently when, at a stop, doors open wide, I heard the following came bounding into the train's interior from beyond: "Hey." This time I decided to take a look and see what it was that was going on. Just as I was turning around I was confronted by a shaven pated, sunglass wearing maniac who seemed quite familiar with me. "Wow! Hey! It's been awhile. How ya doin'?" I was saved by the closing of the industrial steel doors of the train and immediately set about wondering just who in the hell that guy was. I think it's safe to say that whoever it was really did know me because, well, he knew my name. QED. Normaly I wouldn't really be bothered by such a thing, but this isn't an isolated incident. I am constantly running into people who remember me while I find myself at a loss to even imagine that their face looks familiar. As you might guess this is somewhat embarrassing for me, not just because I don't remember these people, but because they all seem to be quite excited about running into me. I tired to be egotistical about the whole thing, thinking that I was just that damn amazing. Who wouldn't be ragingly thrilled to run into me after what must have been the best time they ever had? Unfortunately, my neurotic tendency to believe that such a thing doesn't even reside in the land of possibility (two counties down from the land of Dairy Queen by the way) just makes those experiences creepy. So, on the off chance that anybody who (doesn't) know me is reading this, here's some advice for accosting me in the future. 1) Don't make eye contact. I don't want to go into specifics, but it involves bathtub hallucinogens and repeated viewings of "Scanners". Just...No eye contact ok? 2) Be sure to tell me who you are, and if possible, where we met. Be specific! For example, this is good: "Hi, you may not remember me. I'm Jonas Saulk, inventor of the polio vaccine. We talked a bit about the infamous bare knuckle brwal between E.E. Cummings and Robert Bly at that poetry slam at The Book Hut last weekend. How's it hangin'?" This is bad: "YOUAREAWSOMEGIVEMEAHUG!" 3) If you've shaved your head, grown a Rasputin like beard, or been through some sort of disfiguring accident, don't even bother. As a general rule I try to avoid imagining people with more and/or less of what they currently have. It makes me feel dirty. If everybody follows these three simple rules I think we can all make my life that much easier, and isn't that what it's all about?
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