July 7th, 2009

Forget Me Now

Save the Last Dance 2: Cruise Control

Last week, I had issues with flies in my apartment, and on Tuesday, after killing over three dozen flies, I was not in the mood to cook dinner, so I took advantage of Rubio's Fish Taco Tuesdays. And then I took advantage of the Barnes and Noble to finish reading Powers.

I sat in one of the chairs by the graphic novel section. To my right, someone had seemingly abandoned a stack of books by a chair, but she came by to claim them just as an employee was about to sweep them up.

An employee who looked kind of familiar. Could it be...?

Flashback to five years ago—although at the time I thought it was seven or eight years ago—when I went on a cruise to Mexico and Central America with my family. I made Cruise Friends, as you do. One day was particularly memorable. Here is what twenty-two-year-old Sunil wrote in his journal that day:

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Our little group hung out together for the rest of the day. May and I talked a lot and I ate off her fork and we looked at stars, and then we both went back to our respective rooms. At the time, May was thirty-two and managed the Barnes and Noble in Berkeley. When I moved out here a couple years later, I wondered if I would run into her.

And I was pretty sure I had, at the Barnes and Noble in Emeryville. It took me a few minutes to come up with her name.

I found her at Customer Service and asked her where Jilli's book was as an excuse to talk to her. Once she showed me, I asked her what her name was since she looked familiar.

It was May.

Had she gone on a cruise to Mexico and Central America? And she had a sister? Laura, right. Yeah, we had hung out and danced and looked at stars.

She had no memory of me at all.

I told her a few more details that I could remember, and she felt bad that she couldn't remember, maybe she shouldn't be admitting that. The one thing she did remember better than I did was when the cruise actually occurred; I was confusing the timeline with the Alaskan cruise we had gone on. If I see her again, I'll have to tell her she was right about that.

I introduced myself again, five years later, and told her about my job and such when she asked. She was pleasant and nice about the whole weird affair—and even sheepishly joked with me when I pointed out how not prominently displayed my friend's book was—but then she went back to work.

It doesn't always go like in the movies.