Forgetting to remember.

“That guy looked like Jeff Spicoli from Fast Times at Ridgemont High,” I remarked about a customer who had just left the bike shop.

Yann shook his head, “I don’t remember that movie.”

“You watched it with me! As soon as I show you a photo you’re going to be like, ‘Oh! Oh! I ‘member.'”

How convenient is it to have a smartphone on hand to jog somebody’s shitty memory? Except for when your garbage short-term memory causes you to forget where you put your phone.

Continue reading “Forgetting to remember.”