That last story reminded me of my second Sunday at Philo Pres. I stood at the back door, shaking hands and greeting the congregation as they left. There weren't very many of them, and I was proud to be able to use most of their names.
But here came a couple whose names I didn't have down.
"Good morning! Good to worship with you!" I said. "Will you please help me? I'm sorry, but will you tell me your name again?"
And the man growled his name. "How many times are we going to have to go through this?"
I remember his name.