I had one of the weirdest meetings recently during a listing appointment. I met a series of people, including the owner and friends, along with some other folks who just kind of showed up before I left. Never before have I had so many people forget my name in the span of 45 minutes. It just seemed to happen so quickly!
Keep in mind that this was not a cold call appointment. Instead, we had been planning to meet for well over a week.
First, the owner was speaking to her friend and referred to me as "James".
"Actually, my name is Jason," I considered saying, then decided it wasn't really worth it.
Later, the friend addressed me as "Jeff". I have several close friends named Jeff, but none of them were with me, as I was travelling alone that day.
"Actually, it's Jason," I thought of stating.
After the other people arrived, they called me both "Jesse" and "Jack". What the....?
At that point, I stopped correcting them mentally altogether.
Just call me James Jeff Jesse Jehosephat Jumpin' Jack Crouch. Glad to meet all of you! Perhaps to make it a bit easier to remember my name, I should wear a hockey mask and carry a machete next time (think about it - it will come to you).
Despite all of the random comings and goings of friends and relatives, and the fact that no one could retain my name in their memory banks even for a few seconds (maybe they were ALL hard of hearing?), I did get the listing.
On a related but somewhat divergent note, my mom and I took a trip to San Antonio when I was 14 years old. We still talk about one of the days that we were there and there was someone who couldn't remember my name, but it was actually flattering.
We were visiting the Espada Aqueduct, which is the oldest Spanish aqueduct in North America, having been built in 1745 (thanks, Google!). Although I was never really interested in history when I was growing up (thanks, bad teachers!), this was a cool experience and I enjoyed getting to see it. 
While were we enjoying the nearby park, there was an old woman that we noticed sitting in the shade. My mom and I struck up a conversation with her. Looking back, she reminded me a LOT of the old woman in "The Stand" by Stephen King (she is pictured at right).
At any rate, my mom introduced me, and the woman thought that my name was Jesus. Not "Jesus" the Hispanic name, but Jesus as in, the Lord. My mom tried to correct her once, then we just thought it was humorous and endearing, and we haven't ever forgotten that day. In fact, for some reason that made the day crystal clear in my mind.
Admittedly, my memory is somewhat cloudy for specific details and events in the past, with the notable exception of my wedding day (and honeymoon in St. Lucia years later), my conversion to Christianity, and the births of my three children. I'm not saying that I don't remember anything else, but those particular events seem to be etched in my mind permanently. Of course, there are plenty of other days that are more embarrassing, but I won't get into that right now.
So, what was the point of this post again?
Oh, yeah. Nice to meet you. You can call me whatever you like, as long as you call ME, not another agent.
Thanks for reading this silly post!
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