It’s honestly one of the most frustrating occurrences on the planet. It’s the equivalent of verbally drawing a blank. It’s a big ol’ brain fart in your mouth. (That’s a disgusting mental image.)
You’re telling a great story to the cute girl at the bar when something like “Who Let the Dogs Out?” comes on overhead and distracts you, and then you’ve lost it. Your face twists into a position of deep thought as your brain digs through its Open Recent folder. Searching and scanning and surveying.
But nothing. No results. Error 404. Zilch.
Aaand the cute girl’s gone.