Who are you?

I had a date last night. It was at a restaurant that was fancy and a little uppity with a guy that was not all that fancy but a touch uppity. The date ended early.

As what I’m sure was cosmic punishment for deciding I don’t really like this guy after he spent a ton of money on dinner, I realized in the morning that I had lost my metro card. In the course of tracing my steps of the day before, I called the restaurant to try to find my card.

The first question from the hostess, “What was the reservation under? I’ll ask your server if he found anything.”

Me: “Oh, well, I’m not sure what it might have been under.”

Hostess: “Was it under your name maybe?”

Me: “Um, no. I don’t think it was under my name. I was on a date.”

Hostess: “Ok, so under your date’s name! What was his name?”

Me: “Uh… That’s the thing. I’m not entirely sure what he would have put it under.”

Hostess: “Well, was it Franklin?”

Me: “No…”

Hostess: “Mitchell?”

Me: “Maybe?”

Hostess: “How about a first name instead?”

Me: “Oh ok! I’ve got that! Mike!”

Hostess: “Hmm… No… Jack? Kevin?”

Me: “Oh!! Kevin! That’s his first name!”

Hostess: “??”

Me: “No! No! Really, that’s him! But, you’re right! I-don’t-actually-know-what-his-last-name-is!!!!!!” (As if I said it really fast, she might not hear me…)

There are few things that make you reexamine your life a little like having someone spend a lot of money on you without actually knowing his last name and being a little unsure of his first. Oh, I can think of one thing: having to own up to it!! Embarrassing! And, oh the shame!