The question I like better is, ‘If I could delete a memory, which would it be?’ That’s much easier to answer. The memory, rather the event, would be the night my date and I wandered around the Philadelphia Spectrum parking lot for what felt like hours because we couldn’t remember where we parked!
The who, when, and what are complete and total blanks. The vague notion of it being a rock concert, his being older and taller, and my really not wanting to be there tickle the edges of remembrance. But more than that – nada, zilch, zip. The knot of fear, though, lingers in my belly like sour milk. Enough that I continually worry that I won’t be able to find my car in the parking lot of which ever establishment I happen to be frequenting at that moment. My remedy is to landmark the car or park far enough away that no one will be around me. A future remedy is, the next car I buy will be bright red or neon green!