What's in a Nickname 10/14-10/20

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Buck Range
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RE: What's in a Nickname 10/14-10/20

Postby Buck Range » Tue Oct 21, 2008 12:06 pm

“This may come as a surprise but I was raised in the circus. Yes, my parents were circus people. I am the child of circus freaks.”

There is an audible gasp by one of my office mates. The rest sit frozen-faced clearly disturbed that I had slipped into their world. While they were in prep schools being coached on the value of conformity I was smoking cigarettes with Butch the Dog Faced boy. They spent their summers in the Hamptons. Mine were spent in like a gypsy traveling from town to town across the Midwest.

“I never attended MIT. That was a lie. I was home schooled. Probably even worse, trailer schooled. You see we lived in a travel trailer most of the year. Everything I needed to know to break into your world I learned off a computer and from a series of magazine subscriptions.”

Faces twitch. Throats clear. I am found out. My firing is inevitable. However for the moment they onview me with the same shamed fascination people are drawn to a trainwreck. I can see it in their faces. The proper thing to do would be to call for the check, leave the table, and enmass return to the office and call for my immediate dismissal from the firm. But they sit and wait for more from my lips. Realizing I’m in the center ring I know you can’t disappoint.

“I know how to eat fire. I know how to put a tutu on a bear and make it ride a bicycle. I can juggle knives on a tightrope. And I know that lions hate the smell of cheap aftershave. And that’s how I got the nickname.....Big Top.”

Chuck the M
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RE: What's in a Nickname 10/14-10/20

Postby Chuck the M » Tue Oct 21, 2008 12:46 pm

"This may come as a surprise, but before I came to work here I spent many years in radio."
“I didn’t know that,” Bob commented.
“Back in the 70’s I was going through a messy divorce, so I left the area. Took a job with a rock and roll radio station in upstate New York.”
“Was this before or after you played middle linebacker for the Wayne County Wolverines?”
“It was right after.”
“So where’d the name come from? Why’d he call you Peter when your name is Harry?”
“I’m getting to that. We were the ‘Rock of New York!’ Rock 99 was playing kick-ass rock and roll to everyone over 12 and under 20. We had teens listening day and night. We had to be larger than life. We were stars!”
“The name, Harry... where’d the name come from?” asked Bob.
“We all used an alias on the air. To protect our true identity... to protect our families. You were a kid once. You know how they can get totally obsessed with something. We wanted them obsessed with the characters they heard on the air... but not with the real person.”
“I should point out here that I did not pick out the name.”
“You didn’t?”
“Nope. The Rock 99 Program Director assigned names to each of us. Now I never legally changed it, but I used it everywhere except on checks and legal documents.”
“I never heard of such a thing,” remarked Bob.”
“Oh, it’s really common. Not just in radio, but in a lot of businesses, especially those involving entertainment of any sort. Elton John isn’t Elton John, you know.”
“He’s Reggie Dwight.”
“And, Tom Cruise. He’s really Tom Mapother the Fourth.”
“You’re making these up.”
“You like Larry The Cable Guy, right?”
“Oh God, he’s not Larry?”
“Dan Whitney.”
“But that still doesn’t explain your nickname.”
“At Rock 99 we had to have names teens could relate to. A guy named Jimmy became Captain Clarence Morgan. The PD thought kids would think of Captain Morgan spiced rum.”
“OK, but I want to know about your name, Harry.”
“Oh all right. The Program Director figured teens like movies and they like peanut butter.”
“So he gave me a name that ties a popular movie with the most popular peanut butter at the time.”
Bob waited silently.
“At Rock 99 I was known as... I hate to even say it anymore... I was Peter Pann.”
“Sorry I asked.”
“But I spell it with two ‘ens.’ P - A - N - N.”
“It could have been worse, Harry.”
“How, Bob. How could it have been worse?”
“He could have named you ‘Tinkerbell.”
“You’re funny, Bob. But that’s a true story, and that's how I got the nickname Peter Pann."

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RE: What's in a Nickname 10/14-10/20

Postby RobGeo » Wed Oct 22, 2008 12:12 am

"This may come as a surprise, but that guy is no friend of mine," I whispered.

The four people at my lunch table each gave me an inquisitive stare. But I was not falling for their prying. In the last few days that nickname hurt me like lancing a boil with an ochroleucous burning poker. Why did they want to know anyway? I didn’t know myself.

"Hi John," I snapped.

"So, Dirty Robbie, how's it going with the luscious French tart?" he said sneeringly.

I glanced at my fellow workers.

"Heard anything else about the scandal Dirty Robbie?" he quipped.

'The scandal. What scandal?' I asked myself while squishing my brow into a deep furrow and anxiously pushing my hand through my hair. 'Is this clown for real?' I wondered.

My friends began leaving the table one by one. I looked apprehensively at Janet hoping she would not leave me alone. Then she rose, taking her half-eaten lunch and making quizzical glances at me as she moved away.

'If he means my divorce is a scandal then I guess it is,' trying to justify his unfavourable judgment.

"Look," I snapped, startling myself with the percussive tone. "Go bother a rattle snake and leave me alone." I glared at him.

John did not move. He knew he had reached my breaking point after several days of taunting me with innuendos and that ridiculous nickname. 'I let him win. I should have kept my mouth shut,' I yelled at myself.

I rose from my chair feeling perspiration dripping down my back and began walking away.

"Hope your toy gal is worth the mess you are creating for the misses Dirty Robbie," he raucously bellowed.

I froze. My shoulders began pushing up toward my ears. The blood ran out of my face and my mouth felt dry. Then I slowly turned around and looked directly into his leering eyes. I could feel my right hand rising as it turned into a tight fist and wanting to thrust it into his smirking face.

I took one step toward him and with that gesture his face went crimson. His eyes became fearful as he slowly rose from his chair to take up the challenge. The entire cafeteria became silent as a crypt.

In a guttural shout, “You saw Dirty Robbie wanna start a fight. You saw it." John’s back hunched and he viciously looked around the room searching for someone to agree with him but everyone remained silent.

For several seconds he stood crouched, ashen, eyes staring blankly. Then he turned about, stumbling on his chair and ran for the exit door. The moment John was gone people began looking at each other in wonderment.

I lowered my head and began shuffling toward the exit when someone began clapping. Another joined in and then another until the entire lunchroom was applauding in one joyous ovation. And that felt good.

And that's how I got the nickname Dirty Robbie.

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Re: What's in a Nickname 10/14-10/20

Postby Rene Paul » Thu Oct 23, 2008 8:37 am

This may come as a surprise to you guys, but here’s the truth about my nickname. As you know, I love finding things. Must people do, so do animals! The early bird chirps when it finds a worm, bears dance when they get honey from a hive, and I smile and whistle when I put something in my pocket that wasn’t there when I left home.

In the fourth grade I rode a school bus. All the kids in my neighborhood did. The driver’s name was Mr. Hodges. His friends called him Charlie. So did I. For some reason Charlie called me Chief, and that moniker stuck like clue.

Every school day I would walk to the corner bus stop. The other kids would already be there, waiting and yelling for me to hurry up. I was always the last student to climb on board.

Charlie had patents, had to, as I would walk slowly towards his bus, lost in my own world, head bent down, scanning the ground for lost items. He never spoke an unkind word. I liked that about him.

One day Charlie said, “I’m changing your name, Chief. From now on I’m calling you Clouds Overhead.”
“Why?” I asked.
“Because you look so depressed by the way you walk. Head bent down, never looking up. Not very chief like.”

I didn’t know what he meant by that. So I just said, “Ok.”

Another day, he stopped me again. I was whistling.
“Are you ok, Clouds Overhead?” He asked.

“Sure.” I said, as I showed him the Saint Christopher cross I just added to my pocket.
He pleaded with me to stop walking the way I do. “Walk proud.” He said. “Stand tall, straighten up and hold your head up high. Try it. You might like it.” I told him I would. That was on a Friday.

Come Monday it was raining cats and dogs, but I didn’t find any. I was the first kid to reach the bus. The rain had completed soaked my head as it beat against my face. It felt good. I hopped on the bus.

“Why are you walking with your head up? You should’ve walked with your head down to keep the rain out of your face. Don’t you have an umbrella? You look like a wet rat, soaked to the bone. What were you thinking?”

I was confused. So I told him about the things I found. Low flying clouds I could almost touch. Raindrops bouncing off of everything they landed on. I even explained the beauty of the clearing sky, and the beam of light from heaven that came down to kiss the earth. Then I found the end of a rainbow. I had discovered a whole new world and it didn’t fit in my pocket. That’s what I told him.

He looked at me and said, “You’ve become a leader! You’ve earned a new name.”
And that’s how I got the nickname, Chief Rain In The Face.

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RE: What's in a Nickname 10/14-10/20

Postby warhoop63 » Thu Oct 23, 2008 12:17 pm

This may come as a surprise to you, but maybe not. You know I ride Harleys right? Yeah I've seen your calender in your office, and heard you mention it. Well, I started riding motorcycles when I was a kid, but stopped after I hurt my back, and my daughter was born. I guess I was about 23 at the time. Well I stated riding again about 5 years ago, a friend got a bike and I got the fever. So he got his bike about a year before I got mine and he had been out making the rounds and meeting other biker types. You know leather vest, nicknames, the whole bit. Well when I got my bike naturally I started riding with him and meeting these folks.

So one night we are all at CC's bar having a beer and talking up a ride for the next day. Someone said I couldn't ride with them because I did not have a nickmname. So, I said, give me one. That was a mistake around a bunch of bikers. One after another they started, Big Man, Sidekick, Quite Guy, all pretty lame. So I get fed up after a while and I jump and say "who needs a damn nickname, its all just a bunch of Big Show crap anyway." That was my other mistake, so now my nickname is Big Show o Crap. Thank goodness the Senior VP of sales had the fore thought to leave off the crap part here at work. And thats how I got my nickname from the SR. VP of Sales.

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RE: What's in a Nickname 10/14-10/20

Postby Zed123 » Mon Oct 27, 2008 4:55 pm

“This may come as a surprise, but there is a small story to the nickname my acquaintance from a past life just referred to,” I said, pondering the wisdom of sharing details behind the name.

I had been a resident doctor at a hospital in Downey, California, on the orthopedic team led by a physician who was well into developing his stature in the medical community. There were not too many residents like me. Most had come from the UCLA or USC programs and I was one of the few outsiders. From Alabama, I spoke with an accent and found myself putting extra effort into being sociable and fitting in with the fashionable California crowd.

One of the other two residents on the ortho team had earned the nickname “Point man” because he always seemed to bring up the sharpest ideas, most intriguing questions, and profound thoughts about treatment plans. The other resident we called “Roach.” She had unwittingly found a half-used marijuana cigarette under the covers in one of our patient’s beds on rounds and did not know what it was. She had complained to the nurses about keeping things clean and thought one of them had dropped a self-rolled smoke.

Sometimes they called me “Alabama” and other times by my real name. I didn’t mind. I was trying to fit in.

The chief of the ortho team took a weekend to go skiing. He was a light-skinned African American and sometimes I could see his insecurities about pushing through the glass ceiling that race discrimination will provide. He tried extra hard to push us and bring credit to his team. He was very well respected, but had the obvious hurdles to overcome in 1962. On that Monday when he came back from his vacation he had a substantial sunburn. His face was much darker from exposure and it was a little shocking to see him so differently and contrasted to his white lab coat. The area around his eyes were his usual lighter color because of the ski glasses he had worn and made him look like he was wearing a mask.

When I joined the group before making morning rounds, I was feeling goofy and jovial. I saw him and did a double take, “Why you look just like a coon,” I said in my Alabama accent. Suddenly realizing what I had said, and direly wishing to fill in the screaming silence of a pregnant pause, I added, “Rat-Coon, I mean.” I quickly got out of his line of vision and behind the group as we walked onto the ward.

He never mentioned it and neither did I, but after rounds and over coffee, I was the subject of jokes and that’s how I got the nickname, “Coon.”

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RE: What's in a Nickname 10/14-10/20

Postby Misanthreville » Tue Oct 28, 2008 3:41 pm

"This may come as a surprise, but ... ", I look out the window at the barrage of autumn's leafy spirit flutter softly across the retro graffitti painted against the coffee shop's brick masonry. I can imagine the snow now, and I shudder, zipping my sweater while the waitress brings us our steaming beverages.

"This may be a bit of a shock but...", I slowly wrap my fragile ashen fingers around the relief of my glossy cherry red cup before me. I look up at Dante, the most loyal of my collegues. Analyzing his expression, I could tell he probably wanted me to sit in his lap and tell the story as if it was something I couldn't bare share without bursting into tears. But I wasn't going down that road again. "...back in...well...I don't know when...college...yes...freshman year...I...". Pause. "...Actually, I was the front man of a metal band based in New Orleans named Tepes." A smirk immediately appears playfully on Dante's lips as he stared down into his black coffee. No cream. "I got so much into the scene, ...so headstrong into the genre..."

"She developed an obsession with vampirism", Dante bombarded. I look up at him.

"Who's story is this Dan?"

He shrugs with that same slick smirk. But it did make him the suavist man I have ever seen.

"I was young...aren't we all at some point?" I test my coffee that Andros suggested. Appalling.

The moon pierced the window of the coffee shop at an angle so precise, it luminates on the surface of Dante's face; showing off his soft features. It was the kind of lighting that you would have hoped to wake up to in the middle of the night. The kind of beam that reasured you it was alright to be alone. He looked up at me again and I avoided eye contact.

"So..? Mary?", he attacked.
"Yes?", I defened.
"You're not going to share the rest of your story?"

I sigh slowly. "I've done some stupid things. I've joined groups that had the same...fetishes as I did..."

Dante dropped it with a shake of a head and another one of his closed-mouthed smirks. He already knew the story anyhow. We've only been together for centuries. I look smirk as well, looking down to hide it.

"And that's how I got the nickname Bloody Mary".

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RE: What's in a Nickname 10/14-10/20

Postby heathermoreland » Fri Oct 31, 2008 7:05 am

This may come as a surprise but my nickname is: Safire. That's right, spelled F-I-R-E, like the fire that burns. I got that name because I have been burned through fire so fierce, it must have come from hell itself. Don't know where else a fire like that could come from...or would come from.

Some say it might be God's fire...burning...burning...purifying...Could be...I guess...

All I know is it's a fire that grabs a hold of you and won't let go. Clenches you by the hair of your head and scorches your innermost being with agonizing heat and pain... It won't let go of you until it's through with you.

It hurts like sh** but when it's done, you come out sparkling like a saphire. ;)

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Re: What's in a Nickname 10/14-10/20

Postby publishedonce » Fri Oct 31, 2008 7:36 am

"hey termite" he says and i get the term of endearment as it were btu know everyone else sitting around the table doesn't.
"termite? why the hell would you call her termite?" they glare at him for it, but it seems like everyone glares at him for one reason or another.
he's not the sweetest guy especially to the women in his life - past or present and so they take this nickname as an offense.
for me it's not one at all. you see my name is irma and he calls me irmita and to that he adds "irmita la termita" which translated means - termite.

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Re: What's in a Nickname 10/14-10/20

Postby threeatsea » Sun Nov 02, 2008 10:54 am

"This may come as a surprise, but that was Bob Woodward. Of course, he didn't realize I was having lunch with a Vanity Fair reporter along with former colleagues today, but ah well. It's been a long time; might as well let the cat out of the back. Yes, I was the one in the garage way back then. And that's how I got the nickname "Deep Throat."


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