Lesson 12) Hey... you?

Yep, you all know this embarrassment.

"Hey, Curl Girl! How are you?? The semester going well? How's the roomie??"
"...Um... hello?"

Yes, on the way back from one of my classes today, I ran into someone who knew me way better than I knew her and I had absolutely no clue. I didn't even know where to start. Could she have been in a class I had last semester? Did she live on a floor in my building? Could she have been in that Rape, Aggression, Defense class Sara and I took?
No idea.

Now, there are two mature options to take when something like this happens. The first is the obvious- fake your butt off until you're pretty sure who it is:
"Oh, HEY, girl! It's going great, Sara is wonderful, life is just grand. Tell me how you're doing!"
"Well, Bob and I just had the best Valentine's Day ever..."
You: (OH! She's Bob's girlfriend! We met at the dance, alright here we go.)

Or there is the admitting to your fault:
"Hey dear, I'm terrible about these things, and I'm going to blame it on the flu..."
"You had the flu?! You poor thing!"
"Yeah, I know, right? But you see..."
"Oh, no worries, I'm Bob's girlfriend, we met at the dance?"
"Oh! I'm sorry sweetie, blah blah blah..."

Now, either of these would work out really well for the normal, thinking person. Yours truly, however, decides to go with the third option, which is to just fail miserably.
"Um... hey. Life's good! Sara's wonderful.... and um... how are you?"
"I'm pretty good!"
"...goooood. Well, um... I have to go do a... um... report... before my next class."
"Oh, of course! Good talking to you, Curl Girl! Later!"
"Yeah, we'll catch up later!"
"Sounds like a plan!"

...I'm screwed. I still don't know who she is, because I don't actually have a friend named Bob with a girlfriend that I met at a dance. I still can't think of who that girl is. I've even described her to the girls and they can't think of who it might be, which makes me think that she must have been in a class last semester or something. By not sticking around for a second and finding out who she is, I now have to go a different way back from that class because now she THINKS I know who she is, and that's way worse than the stigma of having forgotten a name for the first time we've spoken in... whenever I met her last. Just greeeaaaaaaaaaaaat.

Be the big kid, or at least a better detective than me!

Curl Girl, out!