Too Many Pints = Memory Loss?
My one and only nephew, Ben, works as a bartender at his local pub. Though I may be accused of bias, I think Ben is pretty memorable, being over six feet tall and with the Scandinavian coloring* so rarely bestowed on girls who are not of the Nordic persuasion. (My brother also has the bright blonde hair and blue eyes, and is equally unimpressed by it. Just another one of those bad jokes made by the mistress of them all, Mother Nature.)
I think Ben is a classic name, short and easily remembered. But apparently not, since according to Ben:
“Names I have been called while bar working:
Ken
Tim
Paul
and I think once Steve
I dunno why people can’t remember Ben”
I don’t know either, unless bar math dictates that too many pints equals memory loss. It’s certainly not because Ben isn’t memorable!
*Yet he’s always trying to convince me to return to my naturally mouse shading. I remain unconvinced, though blondes, in my case at least, do not have more fun.
March 28th, 2006 at 9:08 am
I’ve got to stop talking with marbles in my mouth because here’s the usual scenario: “I’m Mike. Nice to meet you.”
“Nice to meet you, Mark.”
March 30th, 2006 at 9:58 am
Are these regulars or just barflies? I have a tendency to remember the names of bartenders, but I’m pretty good with names.
Some people just don’t care to remember the names of relative strangers. Or they’re snobby and don’t think they need to try since he’s “only a bartender.”