Haven't You Seen Me Somewhere?

Last night I was sitting on my couch, writing a response to a few questions about The Account of Cabeza de Vaca for my Early American Literature class. There was a greasy burrito de carnitas sitting on the coffee table and I was in a good mood.

Suddenly, the door opened. That was nothing new. My roommates have riff raff coming in and out of the apartment constantly. They don't knock on the main door to the apartment, but instead they knock on my roommates door, which incidentally is always locked. This has always seemed a little odd to me. But this time was different, the young man had a bewildered look on his face.

"Is this Andy and Braden's place?" he said.

"Well, I am Braden, but there is no Andy who lives here" said I.

"They must be in building A."

"must be."

"I am on the baseball team! That is why you recognize me!" came boastfully from the intruder.

"Oh" I said feigning interest "Well good luck finding Andy and the other Braden."

The door was shut behind the young man and it was then me who was left bewildered. I didn't recognize him. I didn't even vaguely think "oh he looks just like that guy from Sixteen Candles" or "I just can't place that face." Now I am left wondering, is it my moral responsibility to pop that man's ego balloon? Should I have said that I wasn't remotely interested that he was a baseball player? Maybe I should have played along and complemented him on his plethora of double plays. I am like 90% sure that is a commendable action in baseball---in dating however, that is another story.

I think that my real moral responsibility here is to continue quietly snickering to myself and wait and brace myself for my next encounter.