I was poking around on my blog this weekend because, well, the junior high retreat didn't happen for me. Bronchitis happened. Anyway, I came across this little gem that I wrote last spring. I just had to laugh, yet again, over this situation and this post. Thought you might enjoy it today.
I am about to tell you something completely embarrassing. The kind of information that, if I would ever be tempted to think too highly of myself, the mere thought of this situation will plant my feet firmly on terra firma.
Oh, there are so many ways to keep me down-to-earth, and I have plenty of friends who will happily join in the discussion about the many ways I’ve embarrassed myself over the years (if, that is, my friends actually read my blog *ahem* ). And then there’s the fam. They will always keep me humble.
But this one. Oh, this one was all mine, observed by my husband and a roomful of people who had no idea what was happening. Only B and I really knew.
I haven’t thought about this in a while, but I was reminded of it this weekend while Julia and I were watching the movie “You Again.” You probably haven’t seen it. I’m sure it was NOT a smashing success at the box office, and I’m equally sure it will turn up next week on ABC Family where they will play it over . . . and over . . . and over again. For weeks.
Anyway, “You Again” is about a girl who was a total geek in high school (let’s not go there because I can SO relate) and who gets tormented for four years by the most popular girl in the school. Fast forward a few years. The geek has turned into a beautiful princess who has found great success in the P.R. world (nope, can’t relate there). Her brother is getting married, so she flies home for his wedding to a girl she has not yet met. Or so she thinks!
Here’s where fiction meets the reality of my life. The ugly-duckling-now-turned-swan enters her mother’s kitchen to find . . . you guessed it! . . . her arch-nemesis from high school. She says hello, coolly, and her arch-nemesis says, “Oh my goodness! It’s so nice to MEET you!” Like she’d never even seen her before!
Now, here’s where the truth is stranger than fiction. And where I reveal what might have been the most humiliating experience of my life.
Several years ago a friend of mine was having a party, and she mentioned to me that she had invited a new couple who had just moved here. She told me their names, and I knew immediately that the guy was a guy I had gone on a date with in college.
One date. Only one.
B can absolutely confirm this because we (B and I) had been dating, but we broke up for a couple of months. It was during those couple of months that this guy asked me out. Shortly after that B and I got back together and the rest is history. Mr. X was no more.
Until my friend’s party. When she told me he was coming I simply said, “He probably won’t remember me” because I have a huge ego like that. Huge. I always assume people won’t remember me.
But my sweet friend said, “Oh yes he will! How do you forget someone you’ve taken out on a date?”
How do you, indeed?
So I made a little wager with my friend. Nothing on the line because we’re not huge gamblers, but I think I said something like, “I’ll make you a million dollar bet!” I told her not to say anything to him. We would just see what happened at the party.
You know what’s coming. I was introduced to him and his wife at the party and there was the look. That absolute blank look of no recognition whatsoever. “It’s nice to MEET you!” just like the movie.
Then B-with-the-big-mouth piped up (I think he may have had a slight grin on his face) and said, “I think you and Shelly might know each other.” To which I added one very obvious point (aside from the date) where we would have crossed paths in college.
But still, the guy looked at me and said, “Hmmmmm. Nope. I’m sorry, but I don’t remember.” Blank looks all around.
At this point I just wanted to run away. Far, far away. But there’s my husband, standing there grinning like the Cheshire Cat. Oh yeah, this is one funny situation, Honey, isn’t it? Your wife is such a fun date that he DOESN’T EVEN REMEMBER ME!!
And there’s my friend, the hostess of the party, who is watching this whole situation unfold . . . badly . . . from across the room. As soon as I could excuse myself from the conversation (that was my punishment to my husband—I made him hang out and talk to him for a while. Talk about squirming!) I ran into the kitchen and grabbed my friend by the arm.
“I was right! I was right! He didn’t remember me!” Imagine the hilarity. Imagine the laughter. We suppressed giggles all night long.
So now I have to ask you . . . have you EVER forgotten someone you went out with—even if you only went out once? How do you forget taking someone on a date? And really, am I THAT forgettable? ARGH!
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