Names Do Hurt

The stripper guy from my birthday weekend. I ran into him today. Well, I didn't recognize him, I'm embarrassed to say. 

It's strange. He didn't remember why I fussed at him ...he wouldn't have remembered me at all. There were a hundred women there that night, and each one was way more excited to be there than I was.

But he remembered me because I called him "short stop". Or something similar.

And now I feel bad. Proof that names really do hurt.

And also, he's was like 5'4".