I started thinking about nicks because of the morning Twitter meltdown over this, which … It is not cultural genocide to call people what they want to be called. If I tell you I go by X, and you continue to call me Y, you’re being rude. If it’s cultural genocide, it’s only against those whose indigenous culture is asshole.
Mr. A and I call each other a million things (most often “hey, I thought you were going to do that”) but I don’t have a true nickname. Jerkoff kids in school called me Al because I hated it, and when we first started dating Mr. A called me Allie. Once. Just once. My Internet handle is the closest I’ve come to something that crosses relationships.
You?
A.
I’m not a big fan of nicknames either, it’s a mismatch of identity… if I’m correct
No. Unless “Mike” is considered one.
Been ‘Bep’ for about as long as I can remember. It’s never really bothered me.
My husband and I met in Monterey, and he sometimes calls me his Otter. Or his Significant Otter. When I’m being overly cautious, I’m Safety Otter.
What I find hilarious is when people give themselves their own nickname. My sister worked with some loser at a car dealership who insisted that everyone call him “Tripod,” I shit you not.
I grew up with two nicknames. My maiden name was Hott and I had red hair, so of course I became Red Hott and learned at a very early age that some adults make completely inappropriate jokes to small children.
My father tagged me as Cleo after a basset hound on a 1950s sitcom (The Peoples’ Choice). I still have friends who call me Cleo.
I have some friends who call me Shecky, my Twitter handle, and others who like to call me by my nom de blog: Adrastos.
I’m Hobbes, though I’ll go by my given name with some of the older, more conservative men in the university department where I teach. Everyone else, though: Hobbes. Like, family even.
My mother didn’t want people to call me Janie, but my grandfather did, and so I went through K-12, plus all family members to this day calling me Janie. I accepted this, but when I went away to college, my mother told me that I could introduce myself as Jane, and I did. Today if someone calls me Janie, I know they knew me before I was eighteen. I don’t mind it, but Jane is more who I am.
My last name has produced “giggle-gaggle” on occasion, even though gagle is pronounced with a long a sound. And after Jane Curtin and Garrett Morris did that famous routine on SNL, some people call me HANE which is okay as I am sometimes a “sarcastic bitch.”
not reall besides the usual shortening, but as i am a semi ‘jr’ that was also a ‘jr’ shorter. now i have something just my own.
FarmerG. My real name is Greg.
We purchased a rural property while still living in Atlanta and I planted a large garden. My teenage daughter and a couple friends came up one weekend and they started calling me FarmerG. I liked it and went with it. At the time, my riding buddy who grew up in my small Appalachian down went by Hillbilly….we were kind of a team for a few years.
Now the name lives on because of FarmerG’s Hot Sauce that I make and sell to friends and fellow cyclists.
Just did a MTB race yesterday….it’s fun to be riding through the woods and people yelling “Go FarmerG”. Puts a smile on my face every time.
I always prefer nicknames. Real names seem far too pretentious. The more ridiculous the nickname, the better.
I’m Linkmeister online as a result of a fellow Yahoo Book Club member who began calling me that when I got in the habit of posting links to current news stories. I liked it and bought the domain name and have been Linkmeister ever since. My car’s vanity plate reads Linky.