Good Times

You know when someone looks familiar, and you just can't place them? You should know who the person is, but just cannot remember how.

It happens more than I would like to admit. It's a family trait. Matter of fact, my dad has a shirt that reads "Don't worry. I forgot your name, too." Nothing gets more attention than that shirt when we are in public. You watch strangers read it and start chuckling.

It happened this weekend when I was at the store. I knew Amy; she looked so familiar, but we could not place how we knew each other.

Did she play co-ed softball? No, that wasn't it.

Was she friends with my brothers? Nope.

Kids at the school Kayden goes to? Nope, not that either.

Our church? No

An old workplace? No

Family Friend? No


Finally, high school was mentioned.


15 years ago (EEEK!), I went to high school with her. I asked her who she hung out with.



A single name, one I vividly remember, and the memory flooded back.



I was twelve years old at the time. My mom and dad were going away, which did not happen often. I hardly ever remember a time where my parents left and I was alone with a friend.


I begged my parents to let us eat at Pizza Hut. Before you get the misconception that it is a far off adventure, the reality was that it was at the end of the street (about three houses away).



After much pleading, they finally agreed.


My friend L and I took off skipping down the road, sure we stepping towards independence and maturity in one outing sans parents.



While we were eating at Pizza Hut, L saw a group of girls that did not like her. Something about a boy, if I remember correctly. After many scowls and glares back and forth, I remember the feeling of terror and nervousness as the furied brows turned into banter back and forth.


We hurried and packed the pizza up to head home, and as we were leaving we turned around to see that same group of girls following us. Yelling loudly that they were going to beat us up. I was not sure if they were threats or full intentions, but I was too chicken to dawdle and find out.


The most wonderful thing happened. Walking past the entry to Pizza Hut, on their nightly walk, were my next door neighbors. We hooked up with them and talked to them the rest of the way home like nothing happened.

After chatting for a few more minutes in my backyard, my neighbors went home, leaving us alone to let our guards fall doing trampoline tricks.
Just in time for that group of girls to run wildly at us, hollering about "eating fists".


I screamed as loud as I could muster, jumped off the trampoline, and sprinted towards the door to the house. I honestly cannot even remember how we got inside, but I was scared. Wait. That is an understatement. I was terrified.



Eventually, my parents came home, and called the girls' parents. Three headlights roared down our street, each one transporting a girl made to apologize to us.

Back to present.

I sat there and debated whether I should bring up the story to Amy, who was still trying to place who I was.

I did, and we had a good laugh. She remembered the story, and it was honestly funny coming full circle with her. It almost felt good to see how far we have come since that day.

Makes me wonder (esp. now with facebook) if you have had any reconciliations or past connections?