Thursday, October 6, 2016

I remember you, but you don't remember me

Blog reader,

You may have noticed that I have an affinity for the Myers-Briggs personality test. I explain some of my absurdities with my INFJ personality type. If you are sick of this, too bad, I am going to do it again.

One characteristic of an INFJ is to notice EVVVVERRRYYTHING about the people around them. And remember it.

That bored look you gave the person you were talking to? I noticed it.
That flirtatious witty banter between you and the Sunday School teacher? I made a note and I won't be surprised when you start dating later.
That time I met your dog? I'll remember her name and breed and age.

Yes, it is weird. I have gotten many strange looks from people because I remember that it is their dad's birthday and that Hitler was born on the same day which also happens to be National Weed Day.

If you have been a victim of my people memory, I apologize. You can call those asbestos people if you want to try to get some sort of compensation.


They seem really eager to sue others for you. Just don't ask me how to get to their office because my directions memory is non-existent. 

My uncanny ability to blurb out very specific facts about people increases in already awkward conversations. If I don't know what to talk about, the more likely I am to spout off some question like:

 "How is your Aunt Mabel doing? She went into surgery last Tuesday right?" 

And you will answer with, "How do you know I have an Aunt Mabel?" 

I will try to brush it off by saying, "Ohhh, you know, everyone has an Aunt Mabel."  

When that doesn't work, I will deflect by saying "Look! I found a website all about Jasmine Cephas Jones from Hamilton!" And you will still give me a weird look and then walk away while I get distracted by trying to infer things about her relationship with Anthony Ramos because they are so dang cute but private, which I respect. See below.



I went into the plasma center a few months ago and met a new screener man. As he was sticking my finger, getting my protein count and making sure I hadn't shot up heroin in the recent past, I started to ask him questions about himself as is my mode of operation. 
We had a fairly sanitary conversation (he used an alcohol swab on my finger and we stuck to boring topics). He told me he was planning on going up to Ogden that week to visit his parents.

When I went back the next week to donate plasma (I WAS POOR OK?) I happened to get the same screener guy. As he was sticking my finger again, I casually asked "How was visiting Ogden?"
He continued to squeeze my finger as I was internally cringing and thinking "pleeeaaaasseee don't register how weird it is that I remembered that."

He didn't even look up and answered that it was good to see his parents and family. Just as I was about to let my breath out in relief, he slowly looked up at me and squinted his eyes like he had just remembered that a total stranger was sitting in front of him. Which is exactly what he had just remembered.

I can only be thankful that I hadn't called him by name, referenced his major or talked about what he likes to do for fun. 



When I have a moment like this, I try to make it less weird by explaining that I can list off all 6 of Angelina Jolie's kids. It works sometimes.



So, if I ask you "What's your name again?" know that I am just pretending for all of our sakes.

And if you are thinking that this somehow helps me in school, it doesn't, so no need to be jealous of my sweet skills. 

I never saw that screener guy again. Whenever I think of Ogden though, my finger will throb in memory and I will be secure in the knowledge that if I ever do see him again, he probably won't know me from Aunt Mabel.




















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