“Do you live above me?” asks a random guy in my management class.
I look up from cramming books into my backpack. “Um…possibly.”
Do I know this guy? Tall, wiry, dark hair…Crap. Think, think, think…
“In the Bryant apartments?”
Click. I saw him once going down the stairs as I was going up. He was the guy wearing that Avenged Sevenfold shirt. Love that band.
I smile, attempting to look nice instead of freaked out. “Yeah, on College street.”
He nods. “Just wondering,” and wanders off.
Guess I didn’t succeed at looking nice.
Events like this happen to me all the time. Anybody who read my facebook post asking if I stand out, that’s why.
- Teachers never forget my name.
- Relatives I haven’t seen since I was four recognize me and then act hurt when I don’t know who they are.
- Students that sat six rows behind me in sea of 120 others choose me to remember.
I asked why on facebook and got some very sweet answers. But all of those came from friends. I love that my friends remember me. I’d be really sad if they didn’t. But why these arbitrary persons? I just don’t get it.