Around 7 years ago, my mom connected me with this woman who’s daughter needed tutoring for essay writing. I was 25, she was 17 at the time. We met up a few times, and I helped her write her college essay. Once she developed the final draft for her college admissions paper, that was the end of that revenue stream. That’s all she was, just another client that helped me pay the bills.
So, a few months ago I’m in out in the city at this dive bar on one of the main strips. It’s a small city – there’s around 150,000 people there, so it’s not uncommon to run into people you grew up with, worked with, etc. The bar’s pretty packed at this point, and I lock eyes with this young woman. She furrows her brow, lifting her lips in a light smile. I feel my face do the same, and then my mind’s like “holy shit! I used to tutor her.” At this point, I had forgotten her name. Tracy? Trixie?
“Hannah,”