A Chad By Any Other Name...

My week-long adventure ended yesterday.
Yup. I broke the news to my coworker yesterday that my name was, in fact, not Carl but Chad. He had been calling me Carl for the past week and a half and, well, I didn't have the heart to break it to him that my name is Chad.
It actually happened rather gradually. He first called me Carl, and I thought he was talking to someone else. The second time, I thought he might be talking to me, but I wasn't quite sure. The third time-the clincher-he said, "Good Morning Carl," and I knew he was speaking directly to my soul. But he had passed the corner too fast for me to correct him, and I wanted so desperately in my heart to yell out: "I'm Chad, but thank you anyways." But it was too late. The rest of the time, well, I just let it slide. What's wrong with being a Carl? Carl Weathers, Carl Rove, Carlton from "Fresh Prince of Bel Air" (well, half way there), and Carl the Great (AKA Charlemagne). But I knew that I had to be true to myself. So yesterday, when we sat down to lunch, he said: "Good afternoon, Carl." I just had to break it to him gently.
"You know, uh, my name's actually Chad."
"Then why did you let me call you Carl for so long?"
Despite the fact that I wanted to lie and say that I have an imaginary friend named Carl he was supposedly talking to who likes comic books and comes to work with me, I had to face up and tell him the truth:
"You were gone so fast, that, I, um um um, didn't have time to correct you."
He accepted this explanation, and everyone was content.

But oh, to be Carl again....