this imploding heart

You know my name

miss me? I missed you too, honeypants. I've been the kind of busy I hate, where even if I'm not actually doing something, there's something I'm really supposed to be doing that is just itching to make me crazy later. Busy with guilt. Guilt for failng to see friends because of homework, guilt for missing homework to see friends, guilt for asking for time off to go to my lovey nephew's baptism, guilt for possibly missing the baptism.

But it's still a fuck of a lot better than being trapped in a 4x5 foot square in an ergonomically designed chair telepathically making people's hair fall out. (I used to spend a lot of time wishing baldness against people who made me crazy at my old science factory job. Now the only people who make me crazy at work go away promtly and when they come back, someone else usually has to deal with them.)

On a happy and personally exciting note, I'm overcoming one of my big personality faults! A few weeks ago, I decided to take Dayment's advice and start learning my customers' names.
I have a terrible memory for recognition. I've surely met the entire Seattle theatre scene 6 or 7 times over at a hundred parties by now, but I often fail to remember the names of people I've worked with, and forget entirely people I've had long conversations with. Sober. It's bad. For fuck's sake, it took me 3 months to assign the correct name to the correct Camp Vassar camper (of which there are 4), and a year to figure out that 3 out of the 4 Broadway boys were not ONE GUY. Who I called Derick. Instead of Dan, Dave or Issac, which are their actual names.

So after things at ToPoT calmed down a little and I got more comfortable with the actual work, I tried to get in the habit of remembering people's drinks so that I could anticipate what was coming down the line and manage my extra shots better. Then one afternoon I started talking to a customer about the whole Seattle Anonymity Problem, which is widely recognized by people around here. It's a general attitude of -Nice-, but not -Friendly-. "Pleasure to meet you, but I already have enough friends."
I started thinking a lot about the phenomenon, and -like zombies and paupau new guinea- as soon as I start thinking about it, it's everywhere. Within the next 2 weeks I had the same conversation initiated by 3 other customers. I also had 5 or 6 incidents where people came up to me before they left to tell me that I was nice, and how they were so impressed that I was nice. I like being nice!

So when DoubleTallSoyMintMocha came in, I asked him his name. He told me he had 2 names, so I said he should tell me the one he thinks of when he thinks of himself. "NaOhKaHa, but that's why I go by Dan."

"NaOhKaHa. NaOhKaHa." I wrote it down on a post it and stuck it to my register."So you're Hawaiian?"

"Nice. Most people think Japanese when they hear it."

"Dude, you don't look or sound Japanese, and that's a pretty Hawaiian name. So are you freezing all the time here, or what?"

And that's how it got started. The Derby threw a birthday party for Souxie a week ago, and I met, learned and retained at least 4 new names and matching faces! Even after 3 cups of punch. THREE FUCKING CUPS OF KNOCKOUT PUNCH! (only a select few of you will know exactly what this means. oi.)

I'm making much better progress than I thought I'd be able to, and I'm really proud of myself. This has been embarrassing me for years, and I think I'm finally pushing through the block. Seattle, I'm learning your name. Prepare for friendship. (however spotty it may be)

Posted by Sonya at May 19, 2005 02:58 PM