Here’s another story from my college days. I was happy to be attending a concert put on by our small Bible college with a very nice guy named John. I always thought dressing up and going to something special once in a while was great fun, but I wasn’t brave enough to go to these functions by myself.
During the intermission we were milling around the lobby of the church where the concert was being held when a guy (I’ll call him Bob) walked up and began talking to my date. Realizing that he should introduce us, John turned to his friend and said, “Oh, this is Bob. Bob this is . . . ” he looked at me with this shocked expression, turned bright red, and finally said, “Don’t tell me. I know this!” He had forgotten my name! I thought it was hilarious. In fact, I think everyone that was within ear shot was pretty much doubled over in laughter. He apologized over and over. It really didn’t bother me at all. I felt bad for him, but it was quite funny.
Years later just shortly after I was married, we were swapping funny stories over dinner with my in-laws and extended family. I was telling this story about my date. When I came to the part about the friend of my date, I couldn’t remember his name, so I said, “Oh, he had some old plain name like . . . ‘Bob!’” Uh, my father-in-law’s name is Bob!