Naming Ceremony

While at the National Museum the other day, I ran into one of the guys
stationed here with UNICEF. I had met him at two planning meetings and
once at his office to directly discuss collaboration with our project,
so he was sure to know my face, but I hadn't seen him for about two
months. He was with his wife and two young boys playing daddy as he
explained to his sons that the extinct wild boar skull wasn't a
dinosaur; not exactly the most opportune time for a colleague step up
and say hello, not to mention that I was looking a bit disheveled in my
cargo pants, short-sleeve flannel and sporting a red Manchester United
backpack I'd bought in town (the only one that I could find on a
Sunday). However, there was no reason to avoid him, plus, I was in the
last room and the only way to exit was to walk back through the previous
rooms, so it was inevitable that we would end up face to face. With mild
trepidation, I lingered around the last room and, when he entered, gave
it a couple seconds and then, "Oh, hey, how are you?"
Now, I know the rule of meeting people you have networked with: if
enough time has passed, you should immediately give your name again to
save them the embarrassment of having to guess. However, I used his name
to call his attention, and he immediately broke the ice and said, "Oh,
hello. So, do you come here often?" I quickly replied that I was just
out exploring and it was actually my first time there. As I spoke, I saw
his face draw up slightly and sensed it might be too late to state my
name now; he had already settled on what he thought it was. I figured,
well, at least this is a good opportunity to hear someone's impression
of what your name might be; a sort of pseudo naming ceremony as if in a
parallel life. "Was it Tim?"