#404 The Faux Pas (22)

So, I’m not very good with remembering names and faces. I’ve known this for some time. My husband and I have a long-running joke between us about my ability to see someone in a movie and be convinced that they remind me of someone who actually looks nothing like them. And if I’m introduced to someone I often find that the name has fled from my brain within about 60 seconds. And even if I manage to walk away from the conversation with the name still in my memory, it most definitely doesn’t stay there if I don’t find myself interacting with that person daily.

It is therefore not surprising that this sometimes lands me in rather awkward situations. I’ve run into work colleagues in the past outside the office while out and about with The Mister where I’ve awkwardly conversed with them and mentally debated how to introduce my husband without giving away the fact that I can’t recall their name.

Today I had one of those encounters that goes down in the annals of faux pas history. I have two acquaintances from The Mister’s circle of friends who both have the same first name and, at least to me, look a little bit alike. This doesn’t mean that they actually do look alike, it just means that in my mind when I see one, I’m never immediately sure if I’m conversing with Exhibit A or Exhibit B. Thankfully, up to now, The Mister has usually been there to whisper the answer into my ear whenever it became necessary. And while they’re both lovely guys, I don’t tend to see them often. Usually only at friends’ house parties.

Like this evening.

When The Mister wasn’t around to save me walking up to one friend and congratulating him on the impending arrival and his wife’s pregnancy when he is, in fact, not married, or expecting a child.

I blame the surfeit of excellent mulled wine. (The fact that I was only on my second glass at the time is completely irrelevant.) Now excuse me while I go and delete all of my social media accounts and hide in shame from my mortification. You might see me again in a few years after I’ve recovered from the trauma of my error.

 

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