Some people call me Maurice...

Seriously. They do. And it's not "cause I speak of the pompitous of love." It's because of my lack of correcting it. So here's what happened- When we lived in Tacoma, my phone number was owned by someone named Maurice. I went to Safeway to grocery shop and used my phone number for my safeway card. Well, Maurice apparently frequented Safeway as well. So after I paid, the cashier said, "Have a great day Maurice."
Pause.
Think.
Walk.
I looked at my receipt and apparently, I am Maurice Jessup. That was about 7 years ago. But now, I am "Mr. Jessup" and no longer Maurice. I like being Maurice better. Except that I'm not too sure I look like a Maurice. I can certainly be a Mr. Jessup. But I feel so old.

1 comment:

Kimberly said...

some people call me the gangsta of love!