In addition to driving myself mad whenever I misplace something in the house, I am equally bothered by being unable to name songs (thank you, Shazam, even if you don’t help with humming tunes out) or place people.
The placing people thing really gets under my skin because solving the question means talking to the person and admitting that I’m trying to figure out how we know each other. Or… more often than not… not really know each other because we’ve never actually met. They’re just random people I’ve seen waiting for the bus on a daily basis or seen across the aisle at shul. Anyway, sometimes the people are too far away to strike up a conversation, so I’m left staring at the back of their head and running through lists of possibilities. It bothers me to be that close and that far away at the same time.
We went to see Evita, and a woman I couldn’t place was sitting two rows ahead of me. I stared at the side of her face on and off throughout the show trying to jog my memory. Where would I know her from? Their old preschool? Was she someone’s grandmother?
I left without figuring it out or getting to speak to her. It bothered me all night.
The next morning, the ChickieNob and I went to get our hair cut, and THE WOMAN was sitting in my hairdresser’s chair, getting her hair styled. It felt like the universe stuck her in my path again just so I could ask how I knew her. When she went to pay, I admitted that I had sat behind her at the theater the night before and was trying to figure out how I knew her.
“The library,” she told me. “I used to be a librarian.”
Mystery solved. Huge sigh of relief.
The ChickieNob told me that she thought it was very brave that I would choose to look that weird in front of a stranger. But… it isn’t weird to ask someone how you know them (right?) AND it bothers me a lot when I can’t place someone.
Doesn’t it bother you enough to ask?