I have to tell you this… even though it’s almost “untellable.”
Recently, I made quite a funny blunder. I was standing in the crowd of participants waiting for the starting signal at the Parkinson Walk in Montreal-Laval. Naturally, I had invited family, friends, and neighbors to join me at the event. When I noticed my supporters hadn’t arrived yet, I started scanning the crowd for someone I might know.
Suddenly, I spotted Jacques (a fictitious name), a longtime friend, in the distance. I rushed toward him to greet him. As I approached, I noticed his wife wasn’t by his side (she usually accompanies him everywhere). “That’s surprising,” I thought. And the closer I got, the less he looked like himself; he seemed thinner. “It must be him! I haven’t seen him in a while—maybe he’s been sick?”
When I reached him, I flashed my biggest smile and gave him a big hug. I said, “I’m so glad you came.” He replied, “Oh really?” Immediately, I felt uneasy. Could I have mistaken him for someone else?
And then it hit me—it wasn’t my friend Jacques that I had just greeted like royalty! Me, who is usually discreet—if not stingy—with hugs, had just given this man a huge embrace and kisses on both cheeks. He must have thought he was getting the VIP treatment!
Of course, I cut the conversation short. I wished I could disappear. What a blunder! How can you mistake someone for a friend?
A few minutes later, I saw a smiling woman wearing a Parkinson Walk T-shirt. She looked energetic. I thought, “She must be one of the three staff members from the Parkinson office. I’ll go introduce myself.”
So I walked up to her and introduced myself… with another big hug. Only to realize—again—that she wasn’t the right person.
I fled the scene, mortified. One mistake is fine. But twice in the same hour? Too much! That’s when I thought, “I’m losing it. That’s it! I’ve just proven my cognitive skills are deteriorating.” Not recognizing friends—or worse, seeing friends where there are none.
After the walk, I ran into a friend who was chatting with the “fake Jacques,” and I overheard him say: “She (pointing at me) is a hot woman!” Nooo! I’m not a hot woman! I just mistook him for someone else. Twice.
The bright side of these embarrassing incidents? At least I made one man very happy with a warm welcome. I bet he’ll be back next year for the Parkinson Walk—the welcome is top-notch!
— Diane Patenaude