Anonymous Anonymous

Hello, my name is... Well, that doesn't really matter does it?

I have been anonymous my whole life. I know that many of you can understand what this is like, but let me explain my story to you all.

When I was born, the doctor forgot to slap me to see if I was alive. My parents also did not seem concerned. They decided to put me to rest and only woke up when I began wailing in the room and they realized they had another mouth to feed. From that day forward, I knew that I would have a difficult time getting their attention when I needed it.

I remember key moments from my childhood that should make this clear. My parents love to recall the time when I was five years old and we visited a campsite up north. I was a very adventurous little boy, and decided to hop on a wagon to take me around Lake Winnebago (a terrible name, I know; at least it had one worth remembering). I must have spent three hours on the back of that thing until I realized that it was dark and we were not making a full circuit back to the first stop. I was in tears when the staff noticed me, asked me where my parents were, and we took a jeep around the trails. When I saw my mother at the camper packing up the food, she claimed she thought I had been playing hide and seek with some older kids (my father had his newspaper and Gordon's to keep him occupied). I was not even scolded, although I will never forget the looks on the campsite crew as they looked me over and drove away.

This went on with school. I was told by a teacher who was teaching us about Stranger Danger that I should not worry about it. Often, my name would not be called at the beginning of class. Sometimes, I would be called on and the teacher would forget my name. In high school, I was voted to be Most Likely to... And that was all that was printed in the yearbook (a printing error that was never fixed). In college, I was lucky enough to have my own room...until the school tried to move someone in to share the one bed (they had forgotten I was in there).

Now, I know that some of you are very familiar with the recent events involving my job. It is very kind of you to come here and pretend that I have an audience that does admire me. You learned that there was a major viral attack on your bank accounts and thought that I had something to do with it.

Yes, I am a programmer and analyst. Yes, I work for the government. And yes...I did my job. It seems as though working with computers and in an ugly office are perfect for someone no one can remember. The praise I have received from you and the public are a nice contrast with my day-to-day routine.

But now it has to stop.

It is very hard to continue to do my job if I'm suddenly all over the media, even if they keep forgetting my name. I am just here to make it clear that this will be my only meeting with this group and that I wish you all the best. Any of you forgettable losers can do what I do, but please remember that you need to keep yourself to yourself.

It isn't always a good idea to be a name.

Thanks.

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You can find more poems, stories, and articles by Kendall Defoe on my Vocal profile. I complain, argue, provoke and create...just like everybody else.

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