The MollyFlower

About a week ago as I was leaving my apartment I noticed a nearby neighbor potting plants and decorating her deck. She put out all sorts of great planters and even hung purdy lights. I noticed in part because that neighbor and I have met before. She has a pup too so we’ve run into one another while taking our hounds outside. She’s introduced herself but I cannot-for-the-life-of-me remember her name. Whenever I see her I just smile, offer the finger gun, and quip “Hey…you!” Since my name is unique and people ALWAYS forget, misunderstand, or maul it, you’d think I’d pay close attention to other peoples’ names during introductions but I always seem to forget right away. Generally I’m too distracted by shiny things busy processing other sensory data.

That day I left to run an errand and returned within 15 minutes. I was heading into my apartment when I heard someone calling “Molly.” I ignored it and continued on my way because, well, my name ain’t Molly. The beck continued, growing louder and more urgent. After six or seven Mollys, I turned around to see what the hullabaloo was about and found that the caller was my friendly neighbor and she was referring to me. She tentatively said Molly one more time right as we made eye contact. Flustered I said “Hi!” and then cursed myself because I’d just confirmed her foggy recollection of my name. She was very sweet, said she had an extra flower, and asked if I’d like to take it. About that time I remembered I was wearing some pretty scuzzy duds and had my hair in a frizzy knot. I left the house in that condition because I was sure I wouldn’t run into anyone. Mortified and hands full, I was desperate to expedite our convo so I said, “Oh it’s beautiful but I kill plants because I forget to water them.” She quickly replied, “Well you can enjoy it for a few days before it dies.” Heh. While she urged me to take her flower (dirty), I plotted different methods for reintroducing myself and asking her name but by the time I’d decided on a plan, it felt too awkward. I gratefully took the lovely plant, thanked her, and scuttled on my way.

Behold, the MollyFlower:

The MollyFlower

Pretty, huh?

So I was thinking I could write her a Thank You note, clearly signing my name, and leave it on her deck. I would leave it at her door but her apartment is in another building and I don’t have access to it unless someone lets me in. The problem with the Thank You note idea is that I won’t learn her name. I could just wait until I happen to see her outside again and say something like, “Hey – thanks for the plant! I’m sorry, what’s your name again? I’m…” Thoughts?

P.S. I’ve been watering the MollyFlower but several of the blooms are brown and crinkly now. Is that normal? I suppose I need to replant it in a proper pot. Damn Mother Nature and her high maintenance spawn!

Advertisements

3 Responses to “The MollyFlower”

  1. Shanondra Says:

    Can you ask one of her neighbors? You could always do the “I wanted to write you a thank you, but wasn’t sure how to spell your name.” It works better these days than in the past since even the most common name could have a weird spelling. Such as Lisa, Lissa, Liza, Lysa. Unless her name is BJ or something.

  2. PastaQueen Says:

    There is a woman down the hall from my office who usually greets me with “Hey lady,” and I know it must be because she can’t remember my name. I don’t know how to gracefully drop it into conversation though.

  3. Kriss Says:

    I would leave a Thank You note on her deck. Just something like “Hi, neighbor! I got distracted by your sweet puppy, and for the life of me, I can’t remember YOUR name. Just wanted to say thank you for the flowers . . . they brightened up my day!”

    I’m sure she’ll understand, & at least you’ll have made the effort to do something nice back for her. 🙂

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s


%d bloggers like this: