Gay of A Certain Age - Fighting MISNOMOPHOBIA

As you all may recall, I suffer from a self-diagnosed fictional malady known as MISNOMOPHOBIA, the fear of getting someone's name wrong.  Why just a weekend ago, I was at a lovely wedding reception for Jerry and Greg along with lovely people and friends that I usually only see when we get together with Jerry.  I know Clay.  I know who Clay is!  But ever since an unfortunate Facebooks tagging incident, I feel like every time I see Clay, he thinks, "Great, here's the asshole who thinks I'm Mike".  I know Mike. I know who Mike is!  But now, even though I know him, I'm afraid I'll call Clay "Mike".  It's ridiculous, I know.  This time I decided, "No! I will enjoy this event without worry of calling Clay "Mike!" and it went lovelyly!  I enjoyed myself, had fun, chatted, laughed, hooched it up a bit and was quite satisfied with myself. ...until I got to my car.  I had just hugged and kissed everyone goodbye when I replayed the moment in my head.  I could swear I called Clay "Mike", even though Mike was sitting right next to him and it would have made no sense for me to say it twice, I COULD SWEAR I CALLED CLAY "MIKE"!!  Did I really?  Am I an asshole?

I may never know the answer to the first question, but we all know the second is answered with a resounding, "YES".

Then, something wonderful happened this morning.  I was grabbing a shirt to wear to work, when I glanced over at my Colt Porno calendar and thought, "I've never seen this model before March 1st. What is his name again? Scott Carter."  Then, I said aloud, "Good morning, Scott."  It made me feel good to say his name with confidence.  I decide to use this moment as an exercise and say "Good morning, Scott" every day until I can do it without peeking down at his name listed below his balls.  I hope it will remind me to repeat a person's name when we are introduced and perhaps repeat it a few times in my head while they are still in view.  Of course, it doesn't help that the shadow of the clothing bar falls right across his face, and the faces of all the other models in the calendar.  I guess I'll have to work just a little bit harder at placing the name with the face.  (Honestly, I'd be quite impressed with myself if I could place a name to a cock!  Only because that would mean I met a cock or two.) (wah wah)

As a Gay of A Certain Age, I am mortified that I am so horrible at names and not much better at remembering them.  I am also pleased with myself that I've found a practical use for my neked mens calendar from Colt!

...Now please, enjoy a few images from that lovely reception:

Congratulations, Jerry & Greg!!

This Is Why I Am Single - With Six you get "Scott"

So, there's this guy I met.  I really liked him and we had great chemistry as we sat
and chatted at this fundraiser.  Truth be told, he had me thinking about more than his brain and things in common... He was an average looking guy, with a tight body on him that made me wish I
had those x-ray glasses they sell in old comic books because I was dying to see exactly how his stuff was put together in his tight t-shirt and butt-hugging slacks!  Then, to my incredible luck, I saw him
at Trader Joe's in the the snack aisle and decided that I'd break the ice by asking him to recommend a good gluten-free cookie.  As I stepped toward him I immediately froze.  It suddenly occurred to me that I had forgotten his name!  How was it possible that this super friendly hot guy had been melting my butter all week long and I couldn't remember his name?  I was fairly sure it was Nick, but it might not have been.  I got really embarrassed, standing there like an idiot, frozen trying to think of his name.  Then, he saw me, smiled and waved.  I panicked and pretended I didn't see him and made a sharp right toward the pet food.  I don't have a pet.  I picked up a bag of gluten-free kibble and pretended to read the ingredients, dreading that he might turn the corner and confront me, telling me that he hates me for forgetting his name.  Shaming me by saying if I'd forgotten his name, I mustn't be very interested, mustn't I!  Now it is ruined for life!
So goes my day to day life, a victim of fear.

This is why I am single!  I'm not trained in psychology or psychiatry, but I have watched all ten seasons of CRIMINAL MINDS and seven seasons of THE MENTALIST, so I feel qualified enough to say that I suffer from a condition I have named "MISNOMOPHOBIA"- the fear of getting someone's name wrong.  I will admit I'm terrible at remembering names, so it must be guilt I feel about forgetting names that builds into an anxiety that prevents me from uttering a person's name, even if I'm sure it is correct.  At parties I'm uneasy because I worry that I'll have to introduce someone to someone else and I won't be certain that I know their names.  There are literally hundreds of times that I've stopped short of saying someone's name and seconds later find that the name I was going to say was correct.
This is bad for an actor, too.  There's a casting director I met socially and saw again several times after.  It was on our sixth meeting that he simply said, "Scott" in a tone that might as well have said, "You're never gonna read for me".  Which is worse, not knowing his name or calling him, "Todd"?  What if he knew a Todd that was a complete asshole and he got offended that I thought that was him? Either way, in the last 15 years that we met, I've never read for him.  That makes my self-diagnosed phobia even worse!  There's so much at stake, I have to get it right!

This terrible excuse social disability, has hindered me to the point that if I see someone I desire to know better, I would rather pretend I didn't see them and sulk away than face the embarrassment or possible insult by not getting their name right.  This is probably a big part of the reason I like gay porn stars so much- They tattoo their name right on their neck!  How handy is that?  I know it sounds a little Bradburian, but I wish everyone had their names tattooed on their necks, just so that when I am walking up to them, I can confirm that their name is exactly what I thought it was, but was afraid was wrong.
I try thinking up sure fire ways to remember names, but none seem to stick.
So, I suppose I'll continue to miss out on, perhaps, very life-enriching relationships until I can find a way to assure myself that I have remembered someone's name, (or at least rest assured that no one will die if I get a name wrong.)  Now, I sit, disappointed, but not sad, because I realize my best shot is with a tattooed gay porn star!