A group of us was in a bar when a girl I'd met just once before (but one of my friends knew quite well) joined us. Our common friend introduced us and they moved on. I, of course, was stuck on why I should have wanted to forget her name (see above).
Two hours and several drinks later, some one was narrating his experience of Thanksgivings past. You know, stuffing the turkey, storing the leftovers, eating turkey for a whole week. Interesting stuff like that. "Baking a turkey is a piece of cake," he opined.
"A turkey is a piece of cake?," I needled him. In my defense, it was bed-time and my mind wasn't too clear. Genuinely witty repartee was beyond me.
"No," he said, and went on with his story.
The Girl Whose Name I didn't Recall turned to me and said, in a very soothing voice, "piece of cake means easy. He means that baking a turkey is easy."
"Ah," I thought to myself, "condescending. That's why I forgot her name."
I guess I'm just a sad, sad man.
