22 October 2013

Careless Memory

I'm getting careless. Or maybe just old.

I've been seeing this young filly for the last few weeks. A friend introduced us. She's cute. Works for a well-known surf wear company. Wild in bed, a loud moaner.

The problem is, I don't remember her name!

Fuck.

I'm sure she included it in early texts, but I've since deleted those. If I approached our friend, it would surely get back to her.

How do I solve this? I've decided to ask to see her driver's license, under the pretense of checking out her photo. I'm screwed if she refuses.

I'll let you know how it turns out.
Posted by Laguna Beach Fogey at 19:37
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17 comments:

Anonymous said...

Driver license dodge is a beta move. Just tell her you forgot her name, if it's a deal breaker, her loss.

22 October, 2013 19:49
Anonymous said...

Pull out your phone like you're adding contact information and ask her name; 95% of Americans will tell you their first name, then say no you know that - how do you spell your last name? Bingo, mission accomplished; unless its Jones and you're busted.

22 October, 2013 21:31
Anonymous said...

This is clearly an alarm signal that you should mend your ways. Until then I recommend to tell her that you have become interested in graphological analysis and want to conduct an experiment that requires her to write down her name.

23 October, 2013 02:29
M.Lane said...

Last resort...at a critical moment in bed tell her to yell out her name....just say it is an off-beat think you like. That should work.

ML

23 October, 2013 05:13
Laguna Beach Fogey said...

Anon @ 19:49 ~ Maybe I didn't make myself clear. I couldn't care less about the girl. There are, after all, others. I just don't want to lose access to the free promotional items of surf wear she keeps giving me, and the standing invitation to her company's Christmas bash in Newport Beach.

23 October, 2013 07:14
w. adam mandelbaum esq. said...

why don't you just use the generic "bitch?" it has served certain segments of the population for many years.

23 October, 2013 07:30
Anonymous said...

Text her and Ask her to shoot you an email from work so you can add her your "address list"! It should be in her signature or in her email address.

23 October, 2013 09:54
GSL said...

Since you've already hit it; it is of no pressing concern. I've been on that tightrope trying to close and riding those "kiddos" & "sweethearts" praying somebody shows up to say her name aloud. I'll never do the business card exchange move again after a nosey broad tried debriefing my secretary.

23 October, 2013 14:26
jubal early said...

HA! Classic post. From experience I have learned that it is of critical importance to remember this only thing. Nothing else matters really. Dozens of times recently I have gone out to the bars and picked up a woman and brought her back to my place. After sex every woman invariably asks me if I remember their name. Thus I have learned that I should always try to remember their name because this is the first thing they ask me after the sex act is complete.

In fact, just this past weekend this happened to me. I will share the details of the story and share with you why I think the episode was a disappointment. I have been frequenting this bar across the street from my house for some time now. I have been flirting with the bartender and could tell that she is very interested in me. I would go up on the week nights when it is slow and drink at the bar chatting it up with her. Well, anyway, on Saturday I made the mistake of visiting her. The place was busy. Almost immediately after I sat down a girl (obviously intoxicated) came up to me and told me she thought I was hot. I replied that I thought she was hot too. We then went out for a cigarette. Upon returning to the bar she began rubbing up on me and kissing me. I didn't much like any of this because I could see that the bartender was watching all of this. I wanted to leave because I knew the longer I stayed the more disappointed and frustrated the bartender would become. So I suggested we go back to my place and she agreed. However, the minute we left the bar the girl's friends came out and stopped us. They said that they did not want her friend to leave yet. Not wanting to object, I said "Ok, let's go back inside." And so we did and the kissing continued in front of my bartender crush. Finally, after about another hour we went back to my house and had sex. However, the next morning I felt disappointed and upset with myself. I felt like I blew it with the bartender. I can't go back and resume my flirtatious conversations with the bartender. It just wouldn't be right. What a disappointment the whole episode was.

23 October, 2013 17:31
v. Braun. said...

Maybe tell her that you are only compensating for your impotence by boasting about your alledged sexual affairs on the internet. This blog was once a fav of mine now it has degenerated into juvenile babblings of someone who claims to have unusual sexual prowess (true or not I don't care- it's tasteless and vulgar). A pity.

23 October, 2013 18:20
Laguna Beach Fogey said...

V.B ~ "Alleged"? If only. "Unusual"? Absolument.

23 October, 2013 18:53
Anonymous said...

Props on the promotional items!

23 October, 2013 20:16
v. Braun. said...

Haha, do as you 'please', then, but you'll attract a certain unsavoury crowd.

23 October, 2013 20:29
Laguna Beach Fogey said...

O ~ Thanks, ol' chum. Must get my priorities straight. Then again, there are only so many new board shorts and surf t-shirts I can use.

24 October, 2013 17:58
Anonymous said...

There is always a need for another good surf shirt my friend. I'm afraid all my good summer shirts for the coast are now long buried for the winter.

Count me among that certain type of crowd. Good company with good drink.

24 October, 2013 21:29
Anonymous said...

Maybe it rhymes with a female body part.

25 October, 2013 14:58
Anonymous said...

Lynyrd Skynyrd wrote a song along those lines . . . "What's Your name?"
here's part of it
"9 o'clock the next day
And I'm ready to go
I got six hundred miles to ride
To do one more show, oh no
Can I get you a taxi home
It sure was grand
When I come back here next year
I wanna see you again

What was your name, little girl?
What's your name?
Shootin' you straight, little girl?
Well there ain't no shame."
Try singing it to her and demand an answer; M.o.u.s.e.--ask her to spell her name in a song; nametag game--here put one on and include your middle name as well for future reference; have her write her name on your back (backwards of course) and then later get a mirror; last resort---ask her Momma!

03 November, 2013 00:14

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