The Forgotten One

The Forgotten One


“Who are you?” She looked at me, a blank expression on her face. She really had forgotten.

“You really don’t remember my name?”

“Listen, bud, I see a million people a day. Can I remember every Tom, Dick, and Mary that comes through this line? What is your name?” Her pen was poised over a clipboard with a checklist.

I sensed some anger beginning to rise in this worker. It was starting to bubble up, just as soda will bubble up if you shake it before you open the bottle.

“I am George Harrison. Not related to that other person of the same name.” I hoped that little joke would help the tension. I waited. The line behind me began to grow with restless people who started to grumble.

She checked the manifest. “Sorry buddy, I don’t know that name. I don’t see that name. And I forgot your name just that quickly. Next.” The name taker stared at me. Her uniform tag read ‘Julie’.

“Okay, Julie, maybe this will help. I saw you last week at the coffee shop. I noticed that you had a latte with extra foam. And a muffin. You sat by yourself. You looked lonely. You looked like you could use a friend.” I smiled at Julie.

“Security! Get this nut out of here!” Julie went back to her clipboard and list. I was forgotten.

Several large people came my way. I waved them off and wandered away. Standing by the fence, I watched the endless gray garbed line of humanity wend its way to the waiting rockets. I had so wanted to be among the chosen.

Later that night in my little room. I saw on the screen that something had happened to the rockets. Then suddenly I was glad I was forgotten.


W/C 299