I'm pretty sure you're not using that word properly.

I've got some time on my hands. Finally, but hopefully not for too long.

Stories of long goodbyes, and bad decisions.
I get out of work one night, it's chilly out, but nothing to write home about. I zipped my warm enough NorthFace jacket and headed over to Fanelli's Cafe for a beer. I'd say it was 12:15 PM at this point. The bar is packed ass cheek to ass cheek, as usual, but somehow I find a seat at the bar(It might have been because the people I sat next to were French). I only planned on having a couple beers, and being on my way. This, of course, is a hard feat to accomplish in New York City. Right as I'm thinking about thinking I'm ready to go(1:15 or so), my friend from work, James, stops by the bar. Whiskey happens. Then girls. Something I miss about really not caring, James just turns to the girls sitting next to us, say's something mildly innapropriate, and suddenly they are drinking with us. Great, I am once again going to stay out longer(I hate fun, of all sorts[not true]). Anyway, we some how kind of pair off, and Bob the Bartender keeps feeding free beer our way. How could this night get any better(Yeah, I'm thinking the same thing at this point). I'm pretty sure I'm hitting it off with this girl, I don't really remember much of what was said, I remember the other James looked like he was doing pretty well too. We spend what must have been hours talking and having a good time, in a wierd small world kind of way we discover we know some of the same people, well, the girls and James do. I of course pretend to know these people, and not like them. Somehow that worked, and we became those awful people making out at the bar. Like, drunk make out. All of the sudden, maybe around 3, I think I was kissing her neck, the girl stops me, "Whats wrong?" I ask. She looks me dead in the eye, maybe(we were both kind of swaying at this point), and asks "What's my name?"
Uh oh.
It dawned on me at the point that we had never actually been introduced, if names we mentioned at all, I had not cared enough to remember. I burst out laughing, explaining that I truthfully had no idea, and asking if that mattered to her. I think she told me her name, which was once again immediately forgotten, and then she tried to play done with me. It did not work, as she spent the rest of the time at the bar with me, slowly but surely forgetting that I forgot her name. Bob called Last Call. I'd had enough anyway. Got bored and left, if I said goodbye it would surprise me. I have her number in my phone though, I'd call her, but I don't know what her name is. James later informed me that she had asked about me after my departure, she was totally interested.
Couldn't that happen when I do nice things?