Everybody knows my name. No, I'm not talking about the Cheers theme song. But lately I've been noticing that either people have been getting really good at remembering names or I'm in The Gordon Show.
Yesterday Cheri quipped, "Everybody knows you!" [in response to Gail's mention of Esther knowing me from piano] I didn't think it was the case, but lately people have been ... well, knowing me more than usual. It's kind of scary, actually. Coach McCarthy knew who I was, even knew my name once without me having to tell him. One time, when he didn't remember me but I told him who I was, he said, "Gordon Koo! Mr. AP, how many are you taking this year?" Then then there's Mrs Melocik, who knows who I am even though I've never told her who I am. Mrs Booth remembered my name, too. *shudder* That was a scary experience. When I think about it, a lot of my freshman year teachers remember me. Mrs Booth, Mr Berg, Mrs Perkovich, and I'm sure Fernando Jen would remember me. I say hi to Mr Weber every now and then, but I doubt he remembers who I am. Even Mr Williams who taught World Geography in summer school before 9th grade knew my name. At least my last name, anyway. He says, "Mr Koo!! What can I do for you?"
It's times like these that I get paranoid, thinking maybe I'm on The Gordon Show. Ya know, like The Truman Show. It feels like the world is revolving around me, but I realize that it's not the whole world... just my world revolves around me. Right. Have you ever wondered about that, though? What if there were hidden cameras scattered throughout your house, in your car, in other people? It's a horrible thought. Although, for those of you who want to be on TV, [I know you're out there!] this is your dream come true, only not in the way that you might expect. You'd lose all privacy, and who wants that? Plus, that means that all the people in your life have been pretending all along. They were never your friends. When they talked with you and hung out with you, it was all for money. That would just about kill me. I'd go and kick everyone in the shin if I found that out. Seriously. If that didn't do the job, I'd punch them in the face. What kind of messed up network would broadcast a show that does that to someone? Yuck. Makes me wanna hurl. Well, actually, no matter how despicable things are, I'd never really want a bunch of gastric juices to shoot from my mouth. I mean, how gross would that be? So I'll settle for kicking them in the shin. With a steel-toed boot. I would imagine that to be very painful.
I long for the warmth of days gone by, when you were mine, but now those days are memories in time.