Tuesday, August 29, 2017

Forgetful…or Not


Forgetfullikely to forget…characterized by negligent failure to remember...neglectful…inducing oblivion. 

“So when are we going to the show?” Hub asks as we dig into our grilled chicken and salad dinner one summer evening.

“Uh…honestly, I’m not sure. Sometime the week after Labor Day. I just don’t remember the exact date,” I respond, concentrating on my plate.

“Saturday night?”

“Definitely not Friday or Saturday night. I didn’t want to deal with traffic. One night during the week. Tuesday, Wednesday or Thursday.”

“You don’t know? You don’t remember? Didn’t you exchange the tickets?” looking at me as if I was from another planet. How could I forget? his body language insinuated.

“I did. Called last week. I just don’t remember what day the new tickets are for, and forgot to add it to our calendar.”

“Oh…you better find out when we’re going or we won’t go. I don’t want to lose our money.”

”I know.  I’ll call.”

End of conversation.

The next day I called the box office and sheepishly explained to the woman on the other end of the line my dilemma.

At which point she burst into hysterical laughter.

“I won’t ask your age or how your memory is doing these days,” she states between fits of laughter, and, after controlling herself continues, “OK, give me your name and let me look up your account…”

A minute or so later she’s back on the line, “I see you requested a ticket exchange…”

“Right, we couldn’t go on the original night of our tickets. Last minute grandsitting obligation.”

“I understand…I have your account here. I see the request for exchange, but we are holding it for further instructions. There is no date noted for another show.”

“Oh…that’s why I couldn’t remember the date we were going. There was no date. I guess I called requesting an exchange when I found out we couldn’t go on the original day. Figured I would call again and choose another time later. Can I exchange my tickets for a specific date now?”

“Sure…when would you like to go?”

“OK, give me a minute, I’m bringing up my calendar.” A few seconds later the calendar appeared on my computer screen, “How about Wednesday or Thursday September 6th or 7th?”

“We have good seats available for either night.”

“OK, let’s make it Wednesday.”

“Any preference for seating?”

“No, we have not been to that theater before.”

“Well, I have two seats row six center.”

“Sounds great…”

“You will receive an email confirmation. You can print your tickets.”

“Thank you!”

“Your welcome, good bye.”

“Bye.”

I immediately put the information on my calendar. 

4 comments:

  1. That happens to me, too, more often than it used to. Scares me. Especially when I was responsible for this refugee camp. I used to be able to juggle more balls in the air - like, nine. For the last couple of years it's been five. Now I think it's probably just four. I don't like THAT at all!

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  2. It happens. I console myself with the thought that my memory was always so sieve-like so it's not just age!

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  3. I've found one unanticipated benefit of a blog is writing posts about things I don't want to forget. It helps. :-)

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