Or you can call me Ray...
There's a developmentally disabled employee in the dining hall. He loves everybody, female or male, and tells them so. (I worked here a year before he told me he loves me.)
For the past few months, he had been calling me by Skippy's name. However, when I walked in with Skippy a couple weeks ago, he obviously couldn't call me "Skippy", so I became "Chris". He called me that again today.
Actually, I'd be kind of flattered if you called me Johnson.
2 Comments:
Can I call you Al?
All right, but you doesn't have to call me Mr. Buquerque.
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