Yesterday I saw this lady in the street. We are sort of acquaintances, I suppose. We greet each other. She always talks about how cute our dogs are. Her dog is a bit of a beast, so I don't really say anything. I know neither her name nor her dog's. But we greet each other as if we hang out all the time, or something. She seems nice. We've been living here over a year and I don't feel appropriate asking her her name. Is that bad?
There is a similar situation with a couple down the street. They also have a dog. And this dog loves our beagle. I mean, he is awesome. But this dog loses her shit, lays down in the street or the dirt, gets on her back, and proceeds to attempt to seduce him every time she sees him. I think if dogs had a mating dance that it would look like this. These two ladies are super sweet and they always ask about my job and how things are going, and we exchange that sort of pleasantry. They each have a name, which they have told me. And I even said when this happened, "I was wondering if it was too late to introduce ourselves after we've been greeting each other for so long!" She said no, so it was cool. But that was like five months ago. I know their collective names, but I don't know which name matches which person. Is this bad?
All of this makes me think of what might make me a really bad person. During my sophomore year of college I lived in an on-campus apartment. Looking back, it was no where near as insane as my last two years which I spent on a residence hall, complete with freshman and creepy RAs. But it seemed so weird at the time. I lived with two brothers and a friend of mine. The brothers were okay, they liked to play video games a lot and one ate dinner alone by candle light. And by candle light, I mean a big fat candle with three wicks. But they were nice and put up with my incessant Lil Jon music playing.
My friend decided he was going to do an internship or something, so he would be moving out. He never told me any of this. We might have had a falling out related to my eating of his roasted turkey or when I flipped my shit about someone drinking my orange juice that was actually hidden behind the milk. I may not have been the best roommate, but he could have told me he was leaving! I come back from winter break, knowing my friend is gone, and wondering if we were going to be getting a new roommate. Oh, one weird thing about these apartments is that the rooms were seriously eight-by-eleven. I could reach the computer, fridge, and door all from my bed, which was nice but also a little weird.
We ended up getting a new roommate. He was moving his stuff in, and I greeted him, told him my name, asked if he needed any help moving in. He introduced himself. I didn't really hear what he said because I was distracted by the weird smell coming from one of the brother's cooking in the kitchen, so I was maybe only half-listening. I didn't hear his name. But I felt bad for possibly asking him to repeat it so I just smiled and nodded like I heard him. "Welcome," I said as I turned up my music and settled in.
I did not know this man's name for the entire semester. We would see each other on campus and just do the bro-nod in the other's direction. His name was either Brian, Jeff or Scott. We never hung out or really pretended to be friends. I probably ate his chips, or something. It now seems like this is a bit of a pattern--forming sort-of relationships with veritable strangers that I interact with on a somewhat constant basis, who know who I am, but I don't know who they are. I know all the names of the people I love, and all the names of the Jackson children. But for the life of me, I cannot remember the name of that lady who walks her dog. And she's so nice!
I am convinced there is a point at which it is no longer appropriate to ask for someone's name if you have had interactions with them for an extended period of time. It just feels weird. "Hi lady who I say hello to every morning for the past 365 days. What is your name?" That sounds weird! But she knows my dogs' names! Ack!
Maybe this isn't such a bad thing. I tend to get pretty attached to things when I care about them, so if I keep these people at a distance and they move, or their dogs die, it won't be such a big deal. I don't know. I still feel kind of bad.
Tell me what you think.
Jon
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