flashbacks

Being back in my hometown is crazy, especially where I work.  A customer from across the store yelled, "You're Joy."
I said, "Yes."
"I knew it," he replied.
After racking my brain and coming up with nothing, I asked, "I'm sorry, but who are you?"
He said, "I'm Trey McIntosh."
As soon as he said his name, I could place him.  We were in the same kindergarten class.  I would not have recognized him without the name.  He is still super sweet, and I'm still taller than he is.  He was buying plants in order to create a garden for his wife.  It was good to catch up, and I was impressed with his memory.  I guess I haven't changed all that much even though I no longer wear my hair in a mullet.  (There's no denying my parents had and have a sense of humor.  No doubt they thought it was hilarious.)

Then, a woman recognized me from a summer job I had from my freshman year in university.  I got the "You're Joy" again.  I admitted to it.  She said, "I KNEW it was you! You have a distinct voice."  I hadn't seen her in 14 years.

I got the "distinct voice" comment again from a guy I was in a Sunday School class with about five years ago, right before I moved to Japan.  It was good to see these random people out of my random past.  Upon reflection, I think the "distinct voice" has more to do with my accent, diction and grammar than my actual voice.  I speak differently from the majority of the people in my hometown.  I get asked regularly where I am from.  I tell them here.  This one guy asked me, "How far South are you?"
I replied, "Excuse me?"
"How far South are you?" he continued.
"I don't understand," I plead.
"You're from New York, aren't you?" he said.

He would not believe me when I said I was from here.

For the most part of my life, I've felt invisible.  These incidents have made me realize that people notice and remember me.  The fact they come and talk to me makes me think they had pleasant interactions with me.  Or maybe they are adventurous.