I don’t like making people feel uncomfortable. In true English style I will always apologise before complaining or breaking bad news, rushing to fill an awkward pause when someone has spoken out of turn.
The other day someone stopped me in the street. ‘I haven’t seen you for ages!’ she said, ‘how are you?’
I hid my blank look with an enthusiastic smile. How horrid it is, when someone forgets who you are. It would come to me, I thought. I’ll just go with it.
‘Great!’ I enthused. ‘You? Still as busy as ever? How is… everyone?’ I silently congratulated myself on my ability to make generic conversation.
We chatted in this manner for a minute or two, until the relaxed look on my companion’s face became confused, and then a little wary. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said, ‘you’re not who I thought you were.’
There was a pause.
‘No,’ I said. ‘I didn’t think I was.’
‘So why did you…?’
‘I didn’t want to embarrass you.’
‘Right.’
The embarrassment was all mine.