Recently I had a visit from a guy I have known for a while but
didn’t see often rarely saw. In fact, I’ve probably only
seen him three times in three years!
It was Alex. Alex from a now ceased trading carpet-shop, Alex who laid the wooden flooring in the hall, Alex who laid the wooden flooring in the new shower-room. Yes, it was Alex, who I couldn’t remember. How embarrassing is that? He took it all in good part, well he could hardly do anything else, could he?
Can you imagine how awful I felt? Embarrassed isn’t adequate enough. I really wanted the earth to open and swallow me wholesale. Even his good looks didn’t help. I mean, how could I forget a handsome, good looking man with an excellent physique, nice manners and friendly,
He obviously guessed my predicament because he went on to say that he had
Under the pretext of closing a door to stop Charlie getting out (I don’t allow him near passing traffic) I moved away and tried to get the brain in working order. Eventually I went back to where he stood, outside, and somehow felt brave enough to confess that I didn’t remember him. Then, as I spoke, it all came back. OF COURSE, I remembered him. He was the guy who helped me when I had that fall, made me a cup of tea, and settled me down while he proceeded to do the job he came to do.
I couldn’t apologise enough and he took it in good part, or seemed to, goodness only knows what he actually thought.
The daft thing is that he had been on my mind because I needed someone to do some work for me, yet when he appears unexpectedly at my door I don’t know him. Saints preserve me and everyone else who suffers with severe forgetfulness. That’s my worst experience so far, please God don’t let there be more!
Alex is going to fit a carpet for me, that’s if he turns up. In his shoes I would want to keep well away from someone who seems to be rather mad.