Last night was one of those nights where I didn’t mind that I met someone who knew me from way back when.
Perhaps because I was satiated with Chinese food. Or that the restaraunt hadn’t changed since I was a child, even the cutlery, the plates, and the interior; everything. But it was a real surprise when the owner recalled my mother and I, as well as my brother, since it’s been well over a decade since we last ate there (the only exception being my brother who visited before he joined the Air Force in ‘06). He remembered just about every miniscule detail that even I could not remember until he brought it up, things such as the fact that we used to eat there weekly, my brother always ordered a steaming plate of Mapo Tofu and rice, I would always sleep in the front booth (if unoccupied) in front of the cash register after eating, and he would always give me a bag of dried mangoes or quarters to buy gumballs or sticky hands from the machines. And a bunch of other things such as the church we used to all attend, and the tattoo my brother got as an “initiation” into the Air Force. It was a real good trip through memory lane, one that I didn’t mind revisiting despite the fact that more often than not, I’m almost peeved when someone who’s formerly known me, brings it up.
