My last name isn’t easy for foreigners. I’m used to people stumbling over it, distorting it, or giving up entirely. But once, I encountered the opposite.
It happened in Seattle. A friend took me to a Vietnamese restaurant where we were greeted by an elderly woman – the owner. My friend knew her and introduced me, mentioning my last name and where I was from. She bowed politely and led us to our table.
Two or three weeks later, we found ourselves in the same neighborhood and stopped by again. She greeted us at the door, smiling like we were old acquaintances.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Ness, and good afternoon, Mr. Faizullaev.” She pronounced my unfamiliar last name clearly – all four challenging syllables.
I was astonished.
“How did she remember my name and pronounce it so easily after one brief meeting three weeks ago?” I asked my friend.
“I don’t know how she remembered,” he said, “but without some extraordinary abilities, she never would have made it here from Vietnam and built a successful business.”
He was right. I decided to remember the restaurant’s name and hers. I repeated them several times, aloud and silently.
Five minutes later, I’d forgotten both.
First published on my Substack: https://alisherfaizullaev.substack.com/p/a-story-about-a-vietnamese-restaurant
#Storytelling #ShortStory #TravelStories #Seattle #Memory
Alisher Faizullaev 