we are hella paranoid, yes we are
I could almost swear that the girl who cashed my paycheck for me at the Bank of America in my hometown yesterday morning waved, “Bye, Yaz!” to me as I turned away from her counter on my way out. Neither her name nor her face were even vaguely familiar. The ironic thing is, the number of people in my hometown who are apt to calling me “Yaz” has always been significantly low (i.e. three people?) compared to the number of people in the college town where I go to school, or even all the people who’ve picked it up online. [Read the first paragraph of this post for more info.]
Anyway, how the hell did she know to call me “Yaz”?
Okay, so either I misheard her or I’m paranoid or both of the above.