Excuse Me, Who Are You?
I do not have caller id. When the phone rings, if I feel like it, I answer it. If I'm busy or on my way out, I won't. I never know who's calling, and so when I pick up, it's usually a surprise.
"Hey" a voice said on the end of the line.
"Hey". I replied. No name to connect the voice to. Play it off...pretend you recognize the caller...calm...waiting for a clue.
"So, how was your day today?" they asked. Still nothing. My friend Laura? No. My friend Linda? No. My friend Dana? No.
"Good. The usual. School is crazy as ever. You?"
My mind is spinning trying to match the voice on the other end with someone I know. I visualize a Roladex frantically flipping through all of my friends/colleagues/neighbors and trying to make a positive voice match.
"Work is crazy for me too. Hey, what do you have going this weekend?"
I hesitate. Who in the world is this? I don't want to admit I don't know who this is, so I continue to string them along so I don't hurt their feelings. I have to know this person, right? I mean they called me.
"Nothing much," I said. "The usual. Why?"
"Johnny is having a get together and I wanted to know if you could come."
Mentally I scramble for a connection. Johnny? Never heard of him.
"Um, I hate to ask, but who is this?" I inquired, starting to wonder if I really knew who was calling after all.
"Why, who is this?" the voice squawked.
"What number did you dial?" I asked.
The told me.
I laughed.
"You're off by a digit. Who did you think you were talking to?"
"Are you kidding? You sound just like Sara!"
"Sorry, no Sara at this number." I laughed again. "Have a good day."
I've chuckled about this phone call several times and each time the phone rings, wonder if my mystery caller has made the same mistake. I imagine the other person was equally amused by their inability to tell that I was not their friend, and got a kick out of telling Sara so.
This time the phone call was in error. But there have been innumerous other instances when someone will see me, call out my name in recognition, and rather than admit I've forgotten their name, I will bluff my way through the exchange and say something like, "How have you been? It's so good to see you!" When the other person walks away, I frantically try to figure out who they were and how they know me.
Pride gets in my way sometimes.
A coach, whose name I cannot remember but whose face I recognize, stopped me in the hall last week. "Hey, Vanessa. How's your week been?" My face must have been blank because I just stood there. "You don't remember my name, do you?" I should have told him the truth, but I didn't. "Sure I do!" I said, and then reached up to "punch" him in the shoulder. "I'm just pre-occupied right now. So good to see you. Have a good one!" and I walked away. Thank goodness the coach didn't challenge me and ask me to say his name. Had he, I would have been exposed. Would it have been awful to admit I didn't know his name? No. But the fact that he knew mine meant that I should have known his and because I didn't, I believed I would look bad. I definitely didn't want to hurt his feelings!
How much easier it would be to say, "I'm so sorry, but I can't seem to remember your name."
I have a problem remembering names. I usually recognize faces, but to pinpoint a name and how I know a person is difficult.
The phone call and the exchange with the coach taught me a lesson. If I don't know who a person is, I should just plead ignorance and admit it. Not doing so only hurts me.
"Hey" a voice said on the end of the line.
"Hey". I replied. No name to connect the voice to. Play it off...pretend you recognize the caller...calm...waiting for a clue.
"So, how was your day today?" they asked. Still nothing. My friend Laura? No. My friend Linda? No. My friend Dana? No.
"Good. The usual. School is crazy as ever. You?"
My mind is spinning trying to match the voice on the other end with someone I know. I visualize a Roladex frantically flipping through all of my friends/colleagues/neighbors and trying to make a positive voice match.
"Work is crazy for me too. Hey, what do you have going this weekend?"
I hesitate. Who in the world is this? I don't want to admit I don't know who this is, so I continue to string them along so I don't hurt their feelings. I have to know this person, right? I mean they called me.
"Nothing much," I said. "The usual. Why?"
"Johnny is having a get together and I wanted to know if you could come."
Mentally I scramble for a connection. Johnny? Never heard of him.
"Um, I hate to ask, but who is this?" I inquired, starting to wonder if I really knew who was calling after all.
"Why, who is this?" the voice squawked.
"What number did you dial?" I asked.
The told me.
I laughed.
"You're off by a digit. Who did you think you were talking to?"
"Are you kidding? You sound just like Sara!"
"Sorry, no Sara at this number." I laughed again. "Have a good day."
I've chuckled about this phone call several times and each time the phone rings, wonder if my mystery caller has made the same mistake. I imagine the other person was equally amused by their inability to tell that I was not their friend, and got a kick out of telling Sara so.
This time the phone call was in error. But there have been innumerous other instances when someone will see me, call out my name in recognition, and rather than admit I've forgotten their name, I will bluff my way through the exchange and say something like, "How have you been? It's so good to see you!" When the other person walks away, I frantically try to figure out who they were and how they know me.
Pride gets in my way sometimes.
A coach, whose name I cannot remember but whose face I recognize, stopped me in the hall last week. "Hey, Vanessa. How's your week been?" My face must have been blank because I just stood there. "You don't remember my name, do you?" I should have told him the truth, but I didn't. "Sure I do!" I said, and then reached up to "punch" him in the shoulder. "I'm just pre-occupied right now. So good to see you. Have a good one!" and I walked away. Thank goodness the coach didn't challenge me and ask me to say his name. Had he, I would have been exposed. Would it have been awful to admit I didn't know his name? No. But the fact that he knew mine meant that I should have known his and because I didn't, I believed I would look bad. I definitely didn't want to hurt his feelings!
How much easier it would be to say, "I'm so sorry, but I can't seem to remember your name."
I have a problem remembering names. I usually recognize faces, but to pinpoint a name and how I know a person is difficult.
The phone call and the exchange with the coach taught me a lesson. If I don't know who a person is, I should just plead ignorance and admit it. Not doing so only hurts me.