Why are we so embarrassed to ask someone their name if we’ve met them before?

We can’t be expected to remember everything, all the time. I tell myself “balsamic vinegar, balsamic vinegar, balsamic vinegar.” I make up a song about it, I write it down on a post-it, I bring the cap from the empty bottle in my pocket to the grocery store after dabbing a generous amount on the tip of my nose so I’ve covered as many sensorial prompts as possible, but do you think I remember to buy parmesan? Wait, where was I going with that?

This has happened to me on a number of occasions and I’ve come up with some quick ways to figure out someone’s name even though the fear of insulting them is always in the back of my mind.

Me: I’m sorry, I know you’ve told me your name but I have completely forgotten.

Gasp.

Yes, it’s that easy.

I started to think about how nervous we get to just ask someone their name for fear of offending them when if we really think about it, are any of us legitimately insulted to be asked?

Here’s how a strange conversation went the other day for me.

One of the parents at the school who I had always referred to as “Abby’s Mom” and was totally committed to it, “Hi Abby’s Mom!” I would say loudly every time I saw her. I’m sure she took my extension of assigning her a title as a term of endearment but I was really just looking for an opportunity for her to say, “You know my name is Matilda?” and then I would say, “Of course I do Ma-tee, but you’ll always be Abby’s Mom to me.” Simple. Nobody got hurt and now I know her real name. I just wish she’d tell me if her daughter’s name is Abby.

I can’t tell you how many line dancing competitions functions Greg and I have attended and he will shake someone’s hand while pointing to me and saying, “This is my wife, Liz.” Then the person says, “Hi Liz, nice to meet you.” Then we stare at each other blankly and I think to myself, where is Matilda when I need her? Why didn’t this guy say, “Nice to meet you Liz, I’m Fabio.”

When Greg and I are singing our hearts out to Achy Breaky Heart indulging in seared foie gras on brioche points I whisper, “Why didn’t you tell me that guy’s name when you introduced us?” and his standard reply is, “I don’t know his name.”

Let’s all agree, none of us know any of each other’s names. Chances are we might know each other’s kids names which is a start.

If we all start wearing a tasteful name-tag or promise never to be insulted if asked what our names are AND whenever we shake a new person’s hand we have to spasmodically repeat, “Liz, Liz, Liz, Liz” (insert your name here) we can stop the madness as early as today.

Failing that, let’s select from two nicknames; “Chip” or “Skippy” for all.