HUMOR
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here’s nothing like the allure of free tick
ets or free booze to entice me out into the
world. Like Andy Warhol, I’d go to the
opening of an envelope if 1 were invited.
As such, 1 meet hundreds of people. But
when it comes to remembering their names, I’m
hopeless. And not just because of the free booze.
You see, my name and face appear in the
newspaper every other week, so many people
recognize me. And because they know every
thing about me from my getting married to
getting a boil lanced (though, thankfully, not
at the same time), they think I must know
them as well.
Would that 1 did. But a little cocktail chat
ter a couple of times a year is simply not
enough for me to necessarily remember some
one’s name. I’m not proud of it, but, unless I
move to a new city and start all over, I’m not
sure I can ever catch up.
Just the simple act of going out to a bar
means I can expect a pop quiz; at random I will
have to recall up to two dozen names. And it’s
not like I’ve slept with these people. (Well, not
necessarily.) It’s gotten so bad I’ve taken to
studying before I go, poring over my mailing
list like I’m cramming for the Faggot Finals.
T he biggest challenge is when 1 meet two
guys who are a couple. W ith straight people,
it’s usually apparent which one is Fran and
which is Marvin, but knowing Frank from
Marvin is tricky, particularly if they’re both
in leather.
It doesn’t matter that they look nothing
alike. Take the case of my friends Doug and
Brian, who I’ve known for two years now and
still can’t remember which is which. I’ve finally
come to the conclusion that the problem isn’t
my memory at all; it’s their names. Brian sim-
T
Try to remember
What’s your name, again?
THE GOSPEL
ACCORDING
TO MARC
by M arc Acito
ply looks more like a Doug to me and vice
versa. Or is it the other way around.7
f course, 1 can sometimes buy myself a few
seconds by greeting someone as “buddy” or
“dude” or "darling,” depending on the
occasion, but then comes the horribly awkward
moment of making introductions. I’ve tried the
old trick of waiting for those present to intro
duce themselves, but that just makes me lixik
mde iastead of absent-minded.
Most of the time I’m honest and simply
apologize for spacing their name. After the
third or fourth time, though, 1 can tell I’m not
winning friends and influencing people.
I know I’m not alone in this disability, so
typically when I encounter someone I haven’t
seen in a while, I try to put them at ease by
reintnxlucing myself. And most people respond
graciously.
But not gay boys. We’re not called queeas
for nothin’.
Many gay men seem to think that the laws
O
of physics do not exist and that the world
indeed revolves arixind them. They are the ones
who respond by rolling their eyes
like eighth-grade girls and
huffing, “1 knou.’ who you
are,” which immediately sig
nals that a reintrtxluction is
not forthcoming.
The bastard is going to
let me squirm.
So there 1 am, filled
with performance anxi
ety as 1 flip through
the Rokxiex in
my brain, snug
gling tofigure
out what to
call this
tempera
mental diva.
(How about
“bitch n
Still, I’m the
one at fault here,
despite my best efforts.
I’ve tried the traditional
methixl of conjuring
up some clever mental
picture, but I find that
about as simple as
memorizing the tax
axle. To remember Matt Drapinski, for example,
I’m supposed to transform his name into “mat-
drop-pm-ski,” then visualize a welcome mat drop
ping exit of the sky onto a safety pin and a Polish
sausage. Oh yeah— and carry on a conversation at
the same time.
I’ve tried other techniques, too, like fre
quently repeating the person’s name: “Nice to
meet you, JIM . What do yixi do for a living,
JIM.7 Where do you go to the gym, JIM.7" It’s
effective but makes me
sound like Rain Man.
I’ve also tried associ
ating them with some
one 1 already know who
has the same name,
which doesn’t do me any
good when I meet another
Doug or Brian.
T he method I like best is
noting an outstanding phys
ical feature and associating
it with that person’s name,
like Male Pattern Balding
Bart or Over-Exfoliated
Owen. Not only does it
work best, but it allows me
to secretly mock people who
piss me off.
Still, it’s a ton of
work. So if you see me
out and about, I beg of
you, please be patient. I’m
thinking as fast as I can.
And that, my friends, is The
Gospel According to Marc. JH
bAamby-Pamby MARC AciTO can
be reached at marc@rmrcadto.com.
J u s t F r ie n d s V o ic e P e r s o n a l A d s
Dial
>
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BA T
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