I am sure that we all have those days when we come away from a brief encounter only to ask ourselves: "Does what just happened say more about me than about him or is it the other way around or does it say anything meaningful at all?"

A few days ago, I was enjoying a cup a coffee and reading my latest read (Baghdad without a Map by Tony Horwitz) in the downtown coffee shop. I was in search of an hour of personal time. My wife had a guest so I left the house after putting up a pot of tea and setting out the last of the oatmeal raisin cookies.

Another patron, whom I have known for some 20 years and with whom I share the same professional credentials in addition to some common activities over the years, stopped to say hello and to exchange a few pleasantries. It soon became clear that he had me confused with someone else. I helped him straighten out persons, places, and things. As we sorted through the mis-facts and facts, it became clear that he did not remember the name of the person with whom he had me confused. This is also someone with whom we both had worked during the past two decades. We left our conversation at that; the dude was "waiting for a phone call." I would wager a cappuccino that he hadn't remembered my name either.

Let me just say that I took the dude's number off my speed dial list.

P.S. The dude's number along with his real name was never on my speed dial list.