By Jillian Weingart

He was holding my hand gently as we walked up to my front door. I turned to face him expecting to receive a hug or a simple good bye. Before I knew it, he thrust me up against the door and we were engaged in a make-out session so intense that it could make a porn star blush.

This guy had come into my bar earlier that day for lunch. Him and a friend were taking the train to see some sports game. However, this young gentleman had such a nice time, that he decided to skip the game and hang out with me until I got off of work so that he could buy me a drink. Romantic, right?

I pulled away from our kissing fest and gave him one last smooch on the cheek, wishing him goodnight.

“Good night, Jillian” he said with a smile.

I looked longingly at my beau, checking my drunk memory for the name to match the face. Hmmm. Not a single name came to mind, and I rushed into my apartment to avoid potential embarrassment.

Bartenders don’t get to see this “forgetting” stage very often. We are the people that get you to forget. The OBVIOUS solution is to just ask. But, for some reason, humans find this embarrassing. There is a stigma that comes with making out without asking someone’s name. “Thank you for searching the back of my mouth for treasure. Now please identify yourself.”

But what do you do, in the parlance of my profession, when you’re in the middle of mixing a cocktail and can’t remember what’s inside your mixer?

Like the dude from Memento, I had to piece together the clues without help from my memory. Asking Bartendress Jane who served us the night before would be the best option, but she wasn’t working again for a few days and I needed the answer immediately. Looking at the credit card reports might yield some answers, but I couldn’t easily match drink totals to his name. And unless his name happens to be “Cute Guy at Bar,” the name I put in my phone wasn’t helpful.

Well, that was that, I ruined another potentially awesome relationship. I really liked this guy, too, and we could have had a great relationship; eventually it probably would have turned serious. We could have made a happy couple, walking our matching Bedlington Terriers through Santa Monica on the way to picking up our lovely twins Oliver and Olive from the Montessori school. If only.

Right at that moment, he sent me a text. “Hi.” My mind started to race. How could I trick him into telling me his name without revealing that I hadn’t caught it in the first place? I took a shot:

“I totally think you went to school with my friend. What’s your last name?”

He was on to me.

“Why?” He texted back, “I told you last night.”

Well, hell. I felt my face get red. How embarrassing was this going to be? Before I could respond to him, I felt my phone buzz. I looked down at my phone and read this:

“Look, I really like you. All you have to do is ask what my name is. And it’s Trent. It’s nice to meet you ☺”

So what is the etiquette for this socially awkward dilemma? For people who like to hook up with a stranger and could care less about names, just leave in the morning. For people who want to see their mystery man or woman again, just ask. It might make you feel like the rapture is coming and you just got left behind, but in the end you will have a cute story for your grandchildren. And also, you won’t have to bug your favorite bartender about it. She can now concentrate on making you and your new hubby your favorite martini.