Netiquette, but IRL
I never can tell at what point I can see someone I used to know and just let it slide without having to say hello. If I can still remember them, am I obligated to remind them who I am? Am I clear if they don't remember me? Maybe it's that simple, but in my head there's some magic algorithm that judges how well you knew each other and how long it's been and spits out a number, and that number corresponds to whether you say hi, wait for them to show they remember you, or just let it go altogether.
I was in the library at UF few weeks ago asking for headphones and the circ desk clerk blipped my radar. He looked like literally any white guy who has ever smoked pot on a college campus so I couldn't figure out where I'd seen him before. I decided to avoid the awkward conversation of "Hey you look familiaaaaaaar" because that's always a little creepy. Especially if he didn't remember me, and generally speaking I tend to think I remember people better than they remember me. Plus, with that kind of question there's always the outside chance that I'd seen him somewhere that would be embarrassing to admit I've been, or maybe I accidentally stole his taxi cab back in New York and I'd have to buy him a beer and a hotdog to make up for it.
It wasn't until I got out of the library that I realized his name was Chris McHale, and another few minutes to figure out what that name meant to me. It took awhile longer to remember I had a geometry class with him in my freshman year of high school. He was pretty smart, maybe the sharpest in the class. He once wore a Popin' Ain't Easy t-shirt that he made himself that was hilarious at the time. This is basically the extent of how I knew him. We never hung out, I don't remember ever talking to him for an extended period of time, he was just a kid in my class. Yet I remembered his name. This seems like a decent part of the algorithm. If you can say "Hello, Joe!" with all certainty that you are talking to Joe, isn't there a neighborly morality clause that requires you to do so?
So basically I've been avoiding him every time I go into the library. There's still the awkwardness hanging over me of whether or not I should say hi, and then the added shame that I now recognize him but have chosen not to be friendly, and the fear that he'll recognize me and I'll have to pretend like I didn't notice, which would dishonestly put the creepy card in his deck when it rightfully belongs in mine. And then there's the added bit that it's kind of embarrassing to still be in school at 23. I mean, he fucking works there, but still.
This is what I was grappling with today when Desiré and I had to ask him for some books on reserve. Fortunately he was kind of being a dick so it made me feel less obligated to say hello. And when I handed him my ID, with my full name and a comparison picture of what I look like with/without a beard, he said nothing.
So basically I feel like I'm off the hook now. And at least it's not someone who I'd have to throw an empty "We should hang out sometime!" to before hurriedly walking away. That's the fucking worst.
I was in the library at UF few weeks ago asking for headphones and the circ desk clerk blipped my radar. He looked like literally any white guy who has ever smoked pot on a college campus so I couldn't figure out where I'd seen him before. I decided to avoid the awkward conversation of "Hey you look familiaaaaaaar" because that's always a little creepy. Especially if he didn't remember me, and generally speaking I tend to think I remember people better than they remember me. Plus, with that kind of question there's always the outside chance that I'd seen him somewhere that would be embarrassing to admit I've been, or maybe I accidentally stole his taxi cab back in New York and I'd have to buy him a beer and a hotdog to make up for it.
It wasn't until I got out of the library that I realized his name was Chris McHale, and another few minutes to figure out what that name meant to me. It took awhile longer to remember I had a geometry class with him in my freshman year of high school. He was pretty smart, maybe the sharpest in the class. He once wore a Popin' Ain't Easy t-shirt that he made himself that was hilarious at the time. This is basically the extent of how I knew him. We never hung out, I don't remember ever talking to him for an extended period of time, he was just a kid in my class. Yet I remembered his name. This seems like a decent part of the algorithm. If you can say "Hello, Joe!" with all certainty that you are talking to Joe, isn't there a neighborly morality clause that requires you to do so?
So basically I've been avoiding him every time I go into the library. There's still the awkwardness hanging over me of whether or not I should say hi, and then the added shame that I now recognize him but have chosen not to be friendly, and the fear that he'll recognize me and I'll have to pretend like I didn't notice, which would dishonestly put the creepy card in his deck when it rightfully belongs in mine. And then there's the added bit that it's kind of embarrassing to still be in school at 23. I mean, he fucking works there, but still.
This is what I was grappling with today when Desiré and I had to ask him for some books on reserve. Fortunately he was kind of being a dick so it made me feel less obligated to say hello. And when I handed him my ID, with my full name and a comparison picture of what I look like with/without a beard, he said nothing.
So basically I feel like I'm off the hook now. And at least it's not someone who I'd have to throw an empty "We should hang out sometime!" to before hurriedly walking away. That's the fucking worst.