To Liv, in ignorance
I have a very bad memory. The only things my brain soaks up are- Simpsons quotes, useless trivia (example: In 1947 Miguel Najdorf from Argentina set the record for winning the most simultaneous chess games blindfolded. Of the 45 games he won 39) and the drink prices of every pub I've ever visited. But other seemingly important information (where I live, names of work colleagues, things that happened one minute ago) just vanish making me not unlike Guy Pearce from Memento with his Polaroids and mirror-writing tattoos living one moment from the next ,oblivious of the past.
All this is a prologue to an apology to someone who will probably never read this- Olivia. My usual trick of "blank expression makes way for a feigned recognition" used at family funerals ('Aunt Bethal? Ohhhh. Loved her. God rest her beautiful soul. She's in a better place now blah, blah, blah. Looks so peaceful, yadda, yadda. Am I in the will?') or standard response ('A refrigerator fell on my head.') was not forthcoming in this situation.
"You really don't remember me?"
"We met at the Pollard wedding. And then again a few months later."
"We talked for about an hour each time."
"And on that second time you crash tackled that German waiter with the eye patch and hooks for hands after an argument over the history of the toaster."
"Did I mention the fridge-on-head thing? This is all still very vague."
It turns out I commited the THREE BIG SINS when meeting a girl in which I....
1) Forgot Absolutely who she was or where we'd met.
2) Didn't phone her for a coffee date which I'd apparently promised and
3) Deleted her number so I could make space for stupid sms jokes (ie. I WAS ASKED TO RUN A MARATHON. I SAID "PISS OFF". THE ORGANIZERS SAID, "COME ON IT'S FOR SPASTICS AND BLIND KIDS". SO I THOUGHT FUCK IT, I COULD WIN THIS.)
So I've asked her out again.
At least I'll leave a beautiful corpse,