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2001-06-28 | 10:05 a.m.

I meet a guy at a party. Wolfgang. Duff knows him from work. Wolfgang finds out I'm a writer and says he is interested in travel writing. I tell him I have a friend who works as an editor at a travel writing publication, Terry, and Wolfgang asks if I will put him in touch. Sure, no problem. I give Wolfgang my name and e-mail address and tell him to remind me. A couple months later, Wolfgang writes. I write to Frank to get Terry's contact info, but Frank forgets, then he remembers and sends it, and then I forget, and then something reminds me, so finally I send it to Wolfgang this morning. He replies right away to say thanks. In his reply, I notice he has gotten my name wrong. I look at the original e-mail and see it's wrong there, too. I start to write him back to correct him, which feels fussy and self-important, but I think I ought to do it because otherwise, Terry won't know at first who he is talking about. Terry will know instantly that Wolfgang isn't a very good friend of mine.

That's when I change my mind. I have given Wolfgang my true and correct name once already. Maybe he's not good with details. Maybe he's one of those people who thinks very highly of himself, but gets things wrong. That's not a welcome trait in the travel-writing industry. When Wolfgang gets my name wrong, Terry will understand. This is the way it should be, I decide. For all I know, Wolfgang could be a lunatic.

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