I took my dog out the other day for an afternoon walk. We went out the door and down the street, then turned left and headed toward our favorite park. As we came to the first intersection, I stopped to look for cars, and also took note of people approaching me from each direction, and whether they were attached to dogs or not.
Just as I had finished checking everything out and headed across the street, a person a few feet away who I had noticed walking toward me, yelled my name and waved. It was our good friend N, on her way to the subway. I had looked right at her, and visually passed her by. Not unusual for me to not recognize someone, except, she was just a few yards from the door to her building, erasing one of my excuses, seeing some one out of context. Not only was it not out of context, but it was approximately where I meet her almost very morning, (this was afternoon) including this one, to walk our Great Danes together.
Now of all the people I expect to "recognize" N is one of those at the top of the list. She has a cool, distinctive style, and springy brunette coils of curls. This makes it 10 times more embarrassing for me not to recognize her. It creates the most awkward moment where I want to either profusely apologize or blend into the concrete of the sidewalk. Thankfully, N is very gracious and knows my problems probably better than most, so she just passes right over it. This is the blessing that comes from being open with people about Prosopagnosia.
In my defense, she did not have her Great Dane with her . . .
- Posted from somewhere near my dog