It's frequently embarrassing.
Sometimes extremely so. I had a very good friend in an office where I worked years ago. I saw and spoke with him every working day. We discussed work and many wide ranging subjects, enjoying each other' company. One day my manager asked me to introduce him to a new member of staff. The day came. My friend and I were chatting as usual, and the new staff member was brought over to us.
"Hello", I said, "I'm Patrick Wise and this is ..."
At this point my mind went completely blank. I had forgotten the name of my very good friend, who was standing there, smiling expectantly and looking from one to the other.
But my mind had frozen. I could remember that he shared his name with a very famous rock star, but which one? John Lennon? Elvis? Mick Jagger? Rihanna? Panic set in and I fluffed. I offered a very lame, "Well, I better leave and let you two introduce yourselves. I have to rush to the post room to catch the morning collection."
Could I remember the name of Paul McCartney? No I couldn't.
I've always had this problem. It was a great relief when work conferences asked us to wear name badges. This helped enormously, but even then there were frequently problems. These name badges were often produced in minuscule print which could only be read from a distance of ten centimetres through a Sherlock Holmes type magnifying glass. This was doubly embarrassing. First because the only way to get that close was when the wearer's attention was distracted and second, if the wearer was a women you certainly didn't want to be seen squinting at her bosom through a magnifying glass. Women have a habit of wearing these badges either dangling on a string in the cleavage area or pinned very close to it.
I liked it at meetings with seldom seen colleagues and visiting agencies when we erected little name cards on the table in front of us. This helped enormously. A personal technique I used to use was to sketch a plan of the table seating arrangement as the meeting began and note each name on it as introductions were made. This was easy to disguise as notes for keen participation in the meeting. And it worked, or it did until we broke for coffee and stood around in groups. Then my mind went to mush again.
Just as people who can sing believe everyone can sing if only they tried - I am living proof that this is not true - so also with people who can remember names. They can. I can't.
A technique I sometimes try, if I'm feeling brave, is to just call the unfortunate 'nameless' person in front of me by any name that comes into my head. I try to choose a widespread one, like John or Mary, just to increase the chances of picking a winner. Sometimes it works, but when it doesn't all is not lost. With any luck they'll reply "John? No, I'm Algernon."
"Oh?" I reply. "Did I call you John? I'm sorry, Algernon. I must have been thinking of John Lennon/Prescott/Smith/Julius Norwich/the Baptist! Silly me! Of course you're Algernon. How could I forget. It's this wine, you know, Algernon. Always goes to my head. Algernon, of course it is!"
Frequent repetition of the name immediately following the gaffe is a desperate attempt to cement it into my brain for future use. It never works, but at least it goes some small way to rescuing the immediate situation.
Perhaps I could try starting a new fashion, although who'd want to model themselves on an old bearded bloke I can't imagine. You know that party game where you think of an outrageous character, and then write it on a post-it note and stick on someone else's forehead so that you have to guess the name stuck on you? Well, couldn't we all walk around with stylish post-it notes stuck on our foreheads displaying our real names? Do you think that would catch on? No? Fat chance! Shame. It would have helped on old forgetful bloke in our house.