I was out getting food earlier at a nice country pub. The Friday late-afternoon crew were out in full force, as you’d expect. While I was waiting to be served at the bar, this bloke who I didn’t know from Adam started waving at me. I looked behind me, as I assumed he was gesturing enthusiastically at someone I couldn’t see at the table behind where I was standing. Alas, I don’t have eyes in the back of my head (still working on that).
After looking around, I turned back towards him and he’d still got his gaze fixed upon me like I’d just helped him pick lottery numbers (I’m talking jackpot, not 5 numbers and the bonus ball here). Yes, it was me who’d won the unplanned popularity contest, so I went over to see what the glint in his eye was all about. I was still trying to figure out where I knew him from.
A few strides later, I reached the moment of truth, standing face to face with this guy and he said, “You know who I am now don’t you!“. He clearly expected me to confirm our affinity with something like, “Ah I know now. You’re the man from Del Monte. I didn’t recognise you without the white suit on!”
“Clue me in?“, I replied.
In sales there’s always an exchange… and in Kyle’s case, he was selling me on the bromance we’d never had.
“You spoke to me in here for about an hour,” he insisted. For a second, I wondered if I’d been so inebriated that I’d had an entire hour-long conversation with a bloke whose eyebrows I didn’t even recognise, let alone his voice.
I did that face where you look at someone trying to solve an elaborate puzzle and in the end you just go, “No. I don’t know the answer to this one“.
He still seemed convinced. I said, “I don’t come in here that often. I have one of those faces where people think they know me. Only the other week someone slapped me on the back like they were my best friend and I’d never seen the guy before in my life.”
All of a sudden, he was on the same page…
“I apologise“, he said.
“What’s your name, anyway?”
“Kyle”
“The name’s Dean. Does it ring any bells?”
“No.”
He took an awkward gulp of his beer. His girlfriend came back and stood by him, wondering who I was, no doubt.
“Pleased to meet you, Kyle. This is the first time we’ve ever met“, I said, extending my hand.
I think I’d convinced him. His other half looked a bit nonplussed but saved her questions until I’d moved on like the Littlest Hobo. Whenever I mention that show I have to throw the theme tune in there and this is no exception…
(Maybe tomorrow, I’ll want to settle down. Until tomorrow, I’ll just keep moving on. Go on sing it, you know you want to)
I detected a hint of embarrassment at his initial enthusiasm… and I felt for him. It reminded me of the time I was waving at someone by a swimming pool because I thought I knew them. When they waved back at me, I realised I was mistaken so I didn’t wave again. The poor soul stared at me for two minutes, hand raised like they were spotting a ship at sea after one too many rums.
It’s always a cringeworthy event. In the past I’ve played along with people that have done this and gone, “How are you doing? Long time no see“.
I did a deep dive through my memory banks, but I don’t forget much, so I knew I didn’t know him. He just had that kind of face. You know those people you speak to in a fish and chip shop late one night in between squinting to see the menu? The ones where they are your best mate for 5 minutes when you’re sozzled at a team building event on the evening, then the next day they walk past you wearing dark sunglasses.
Farewell Kyle, the friend I never had to begin with (chortle).
I always feel better after a steak. Thankfully Kyle didn’t think it was his…
Ta for reading, see you in the next one. Playing this one out with with Armand Van Helden, “You Don’t Know Me”, in honour of Kyle…