My Name

This Is Not My World

y name, much like my visage, is easily forgotten. Not self deprecating. Objective. There’s something strikingly forgettable about me. In college I was known as the other guy. I could easily hide in a portrait. And oddly, though not an uncommon name, when affixed to me my name is often forgotten, mispronounced or changed altogether.

The most recent incident was while working with a film crew. Waiting for this writing gig to start paying the big bucks, I still pick up whatever work I can in whatever semblance of the industry I can find. So I found myself on a film working with the director. A pretty notable director flown in from LA that I would do well to impress.

Handshake at the top of the meeting. Introduced myself. Heard my name beaconed back to me. Good good. But later came a quicker slurring of my name. That’s…

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