My Very Own Episode of Amnesia

(Or, I Think My Brain is Out to Get Me)

The following account is true, but the names have been changed for two reasons: my own amusement and common sense.

During my senior year in high school, I took auto shop as an elective course. After sixteen years, I don't recall much about it except that there were only three girls in the class. (They all sat in the back row.)

Now that you know that, let's play two scenarios.

First, let's have a random guy, say, Dennis Miller, approach me on the street...

Dennis Miller: Quick, name one of the three girls in your high school auto shop class.
Me: Jessica Alba.
Dennis Miller: That's correct.

Remember, fake names. Good, now let's have a random woman approach me while I'm volunteering at the Cinequest box office (like one did last night)...

Woman: Hi, two tickets to Oceania.
Me: That will be $20.
Woman: Okay. By the way, is your name David?
Me: (caught off guard) Uh, yes.
Woman: Do you remember me? We went to the same high school and had a couple of classes together.
Me: (stunned and scrambling) Jennifer?
Woman: Jessica.
Me: (attempting to recover) Lopez?
Woman: Alba.

Memories of her in auto shop came instantly and in high definition images and videos, but my brain decided to withhold that one critical piece of information: her name. Why it always does that, I'll never understand. It apparently spends its free time thinking of new and creative ways to embarrass me.