The guy at the laundromat first thought my name was Emma, and I thought his name was Victor, but my name is Edith and his name is Vincent, and now every time I go there, we joke about this. “Edith?” “VINCENT?” and it’s nice. Tonight he told me I was one of his favorite customers, and so everything is great. Also yesterday someone thought my name was Ethel, although usually it’s Emily, so that was also nice. Anyway, whatever, it doesn’t matter. I think he was the only person I spoke with today.
