|
| the first thing he said when he
walked into the cafe was, "we've met." i tried to place his face. maybe an art opening in seattle? "it was in spain," he said, "you were writing a book..." holy shit, how do people remember so far back? that was almost ten years ago, a youth hostel on the mediterranean coast of spain, a tiny town called piles about 1 hour south of valencia. i was sad to admit i did not remember him. i'm good at remembering dates and places, but not so much faces. still, i can't stand the standard copout of "i'm horrible with names." i think all it takes is a little bit of effort--plus maybe this online memory enhancer. |
|
|
