Oh my god, so in 6th grade, when I had contacts for the short amount of time, this kid would call me Rachel everytime he saw me, and his locker was near mine. So everytime he’d call me Rachel, I’d just simply tell him that’s not my name.

Until one day when my locker was messy, and I reached in for something and stuff fell out. So, naturally, I was quite pissed. This kid goes, “Haha, Rachel,” and I yelled at him, “MY NAME IS NOT RACHEL, OKAY? HOW MANY TIMES DO I HAVE TO TELL YOU?”

I still feel bad about it to this day……

  1. thecommunistparty posted this
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