The other day Heather and I were out and I was asked for my name. The conversation went as follows:
Girl: Name?
Me: Roberson
Girl: GROBERSON?!
Me: No, Roberson
Girl: Grobertson, with a T?
Me: No… Roberson
Girl: Oh. My bad.*
*I hate the expression “my bad”. I’ve used it only twice in my life, and both times I felt like a moron. I promise you’ll never hear me utter that phrase.
