The Embarrassed Moment

Ms. Nguyen aka Queen of Imperfection is one of my favorite Vietnamese bloggers. I like the personal reflections that go into her posts, and we seem to have similar experiences. In her recent entry, she writes, “For God knows when, I have always thought that people would forget me easily after they met me…like I just simply escaped from their schematic cognition.” Then she goes on and shares one of her embarrassments that reminded me of my own.

I met a Cambodian chick when I first started high school. I can’t recall her name, but her face could not escape my mind. What can I do? I have a photographic memory, and I don’t call myself the visual guy for no fucking reason. (Ooops! The F word slips off my fingers again.) The first few days of school, I was lost, and there she was helping me getting into the right class and counselor office. She was a junior; therefore, knew her way around the school. We talked and smiled at each other when we passed by the hall way. Time flew by, and we hardly saw each other anymore, but I had yet to forget her. Six years later, I met her at Wal-Mart, so I just came up and greeted her. Like I said, I couldn’t remember her name, but she couldn’t remember anything about me. The most embarrass moment came on when she said, “I am sorry, I don’t know,” as her man came up to us. Thank goodness, he didn’t bust my ass for hitting on his girl. I was brain-frosted for about a minute. It was worse than sucking up durian shake so fast that makes your head numbed.

After that experience, I never ever come up to people again, even though I remember their faces. Call me stuck-up or heartless, but I am not going to humiliate myself anymore. In any rate, thanks Ms. Nguyen for the good old reminiscence. I owe you a bowl of Pho.