I remember you

I am usually wary of that pentameter up top. Usually the "good is oft interred with the bones" as Shakespeare wrote, so when someone "remembers" you, it cannot be for the good.

The other day, a woman comes up to me and says that. I try to rehash through ancient wild party visions to see if I can conjure my half of the memory, but there is nothing.

"Glad to see you, again," I say,-- buying time. "Hope all is well."

"Not again," she says, "There is no again, because you've never seen me before."

My prurient interests are piqued! We must have "done it" with the lights off.

But no. "You beat the crap out of my husband. We needed the cash and he tried his hand at prize fighting at Wonderland. You beat the crap out of him. We didn't get the money. You did. You're the boxer, right?"

Relieved, I drop my gloves, so to speak and begin the speech, how are you glad things are well after all where are you living and, of course, if you know anyone who is thinking about changing their living arrangements, let me know -- I will be glad to help them...

I hope she remembers me.