Should Have Been My Name

Today I drove to Portland to pick up my shoes (as I am too leet for Salem footwear). When I got to the store, I was helped by the same saleswoman who has helped me the last four times I have patronized said mercantile. This woman happens to be the aunt of my cousin's husband. I mean, we're practically blood... and yet - SHE DOESN'T REMEMBER ME. Gawd. Two of the times I have been in the store we spent at least half an hour together and every time she has gotten my name. But there wasn't even a spark of recognition. Even after I gave her my name - nothing.

I would like to assume that this is because she is horrible with names/faces or that her day is such a blur of brides that it's physically impossible to remember any of them, but I fear that argument holds little water. Firstly because I think I've seen another customer in there all of twice (and only one each time), secondly because omgwearerelated... but mostly because this is not the first time I have been forgotten.

Take, for example, the dude who played Terrorist #2 in Ryan's movie this summer. The first time I met him was his audition. We were in a room with three other people. Okay, fine. He might have been nervous and not paying attention to anyone who wasn't the director (though he did remember Ryan). I'll give him a pass on that. But the second time I met him we spent a little under two hours sitting next to each other at a table of six. He should have gotten it by then. The third time he should have at the very least recognized that he'd seen me somewhere before. But I'm guessing no recollection was there because he introduced himself to me yet again, to which Ryan said, "You've met." Terrorist #2 actually insisted, "No, we haven't."

These are not two isolated incidents.

I feel like Mr. Cellophane.

Maybe I should get a flashy button or something to distinguish me from my surroundings.