In short.

The following is an actual conversation I had with douchebags that began congregating around my counter while I was out picking up their gold bricks from Accounting and who then refused to disband but instead steered the topic towards me when they had to upon my return:

Douchebag: Why did they write Pauline on your Starbucks cup?
Me: That's what people hear when I say my name.
Douchebag: But Co-leen doesn't sound like Pauline. *Tries unsucessfully to rhyme Co-leen with Pauline for a solid minute or so*
Me: My name is Colleen.
Douchebag: Oh that's right, you like to say Colleen.
Me: *facial tick*
Douchebag: If you said Co-leen, that wouldn't happen. *Douche congregation nods amongst themselves at this stroke of genius.*
Me: *facial tick*
Douchebag: It's just a thought.

Douchebag's phone rings and they all slowly file away. My own phone rings. I pick it up.

Me: Regs and Policy, this is Colleen.
Phoner: Hi Pauline! Maybe you can help me...

Douchebag emerges from office and shouts: Co-leen! You'll never guess what happened! A Pauline just called me! HAHAHA.

That's it. I'm honoring veterans everywhere this Veterans Day by shooting myself. I refuse to live in a world wherein the douchebag population is incapable of pronouncing a short o.