charles

every morning, everyday of the last seven months i have driven to the bus stop, stepped on to the "big yellow", which more closely resembles a WWII tank than anything else. made around the same time too, i should think. i take my seat in the 5th row and greet my middle aged moustachioed driver, "chuck", and he always says the same thing: "another day, eh abby?" i never was quite sure what that meant.
i had felt like me and chuck were on pretty good terms; i know more about him than any one person would think. he is a potbellied, graying vegetarian with a weakness for anime and meditation. he also has the single most intense pair of eyebrows that you will ever see.
all this to say, i know chuck, and i thought he knew me. well enough, anyway. that is, until, last week sometime, when i stepped off the bus with a "thanks, chuck" and he replied with a "have a good day, jackie". sure. "jackie". it has been jackie ever since.
i have nothing against the name jackie. i know quite a few delightful young ladies by that name.
but chuck, i thought we understood each other. was it something i said? please let me know how i may remedy this as soon as humanly possible. if you're looking for me, i'm at home having an identity crisis.