I was Delusional not Memorable

I thought I was memorable. I was delusional. Ha! It wasn't a pleasant discovery but I had to face it - not everyone I dated remembered me. This disappointing realization all started with an afternoon run. Unlike some joggers I do not consider my running clothes a fashion statement. They are old, ratty and gray. Nor do I comb my hair but put it up in a messy ponytail . No make-up either which is not a good look at my age. Lately I put on sunscreen so my face has a Kabuki white palor. Most of the time I've shaved my legs. I'm explaining all of this to make myself feel better. Bottom line I looked like crap even before I was out the door. It has been hideously hot and humid this summer in Chicago - another excuse but true. It only took 1/8 of a mile before I was soaked in sweat. This included my hair which morphed from ponytail to rat's tail after three blocks.

I was 2 1/2 miles into my run with sweat pouring down my face, legs, and arms when I found myself waiting for a light to turn green behind a tall thin man. The back of his blond head look oddly familiar so I took a step in front of him, turned and stared. Yep, I knew him! He was a man I had gone out with quite a few years ago. Having a big mouth and an addled sense of self confidence considering how sweaty I was I blurted out,

"Don't I know you?!" He looked at me, stared and said nothing.

"I know you, " I insisted. Silence.

"Aren't you an architect?" I couldn't stop myself even after the light turned. I kept walking waiting for him to remember me too.

"Yes," he mouthed and glanced down at me.

"I'm not trying to accost you but I definitely know you." I was like a bulldog on a pant leg although he looked at me like I was an alien from a distant planet. We kept walking and I kept talking.

"Didn't you live in Barrington and collect cars?" I quizzed as I sweated and walked next to him. Poor guy I was dripping on his clean blue shirt.

"Yes" was his answer but nothing more. Ok, I was disturbing his peace. But how did I remember him and he didn't have a freaking clue who I was? Finally I had to say it regardless of my now very self conscious state. I gritted my teeth and blurted out,

"DIDN'T WE DATE?" Naturally I was dressed better and not sweating when we went out but was I that unrecognizable? I didn't know if I wanted his anwer, a plastic surgeon, or a therapist. Although a martini might have been good.

We walked along for a few blocks and he became increasingly chatty but I could tell he still didn't know who I was. Thankfully when I got home the dog remembered me. My ego had been bruised but I didn't call a plastic surgeon or therapist. The martini was helpful however.