Since I moved in with the boyfriend back in 2008, we've done laundry at a laundromat a couple of doors down from our apartment. I try my best to be friendly with people, sometimes to a fault.
I realized a couple of weeks ago that the man who runs the dry cleaning and laundromat thinks my name is...Celeste.
Okay, so I'm lying.
I thought he thought my name was Celeste a long time ago, perhaps a year ago. But I was counting on the fact that he would forget my name, and ask me and then I could correct him.
But nope. I'm still Celeste in his mind.
I mean, don't get me wrong. Celeste is a really pretty name. I've thought of giving my future daughter that name or a variant of that name. But, it's not my name. It's not even a nickname.
It get worst. He's called me Celeste to my face and I didn't correct him. I think I wasn't sure if I heard him correctly, or I just chickened out.
The only thing left to do is to move away or never do laundry there. But instead I'm just going to casually avoid him and hope that he will just forget my name eventually.
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