My name is also Jennifer and I will always introduce myself as Jennifer as it sounds better when combined with my surname. Aussies for some reason have a problem with this name and will always shorten it to Jenny or Jen, I’ve even had Jenda, JB and Fur among a host of other nick names which have nothing to do with my given name.
I really don’t mind my name being shortened in fact it would seem strange to hear anyone call me Jennifer now.
At the restaurant where I used to work, we had four guys named Kevin. When we heard that management was hiring a fifth, we all agreed that this would make things entirely too confusing, so we decided that henceforth, Kevin #5 would be referred to ‘Bob’. That’s what we called him when he arrived, much to his confusion; that’s what we put on his nametag, and that’s how he introduced himself to his customers (he was cool with it from the start, but we let him be confused for a couple days until he figured out why we’d done it). That was done largely in jest, and if he’d been the least bit bothered by it, we (or at least I) would have knocked it off immediately.
There was another situation at that same restaurant, however, that leaves a bad taste in my mouth to this day. We hired a line cook whose name was Mohammed. I think his family was Iranian, but that’s just a guess based on the fact that he looked Caucasian yet had an accent. Anyway, when the owner of the restaurant (a real asshole who’s worth a few Pit threads in his own right) first met the guy, he insisted that we call him by a different name. Naturally, everybody wondered why. I think it’s a credit to the rest of the staff that nobody else could fathom the reason this guy came up with: Mohammed was a name that people associated with Islam, and overhearing names like that might scare the customers.
My face upon hearing this: :eek: (although I think the color was closer to :mad: )
Anyhow, for reasons I will never understand, Mohammed was okay with it*, and it’s against my philosophy to cry ‘injustice’ on behalf of people who don’t care. But you folks think you have problems with people giving you nicknames for no reason: this poor guy had his name changed in one of the most blatant and inexcusable acts of bigotry I have ever been unfortunate enough to witness. How about them apples?
*For equally nonobvious reasons, he chose the nickname “Sally”, and that’s what we called him.
Damn, now I feel guilty.
My girlfriend has a friend who insists on being called “Patrick.” She calls him Pat when she’s sick of him and wants him to just go away (you have to know this guy, he can get really annoying). I call him Pat from the get-go, because I can’t stand the guy. He’s one of those “world’s foremost experts on everything” people, and I just don’t want to listen to him pontificate.
That sounds really petty when I think about how much the David/Dave thing used to bother me.
I, too, am Elizabeth. As a kid, I was Liz (the tomboy, I hated to be called Elizabeth and especially the too-girly Beth). My family sometimes called my Lizzy (never with the “ie”, always the “y”). Boys often called my Lizard, which I wore as a badge of honor.
At 25, I went back to school to get my teaching credential. I decided to take charge of my life and go by Elizabeth. Now folks have a hard time seeing me as someone who ever would have gone by Liz. But some people still want to shorten it. If it’s someone I’m going to be seeing regularly, I tell them this rule:
“My name is Elizabeth, but if you want, you may call me by any derivative of that name which has more than one syllable and does not end in the “y” sound.” Elsbeth, Elsbet, Ebet, Lizbet, Lizbeth, Liza–I’ll respond to any of them. And yes, it has been pointed out to me that Lizard fits the rule, so I answer to that as well.
My husband Anthony is Anthony to everyone who knows him and Tony to people who want you to think they know him but obviously don’t or they wouldn’t be calling him Tony. His father is Tony, and so he is ALWAYS Anthony. Except when I call him Ant. 
My name is Carol, but people always try to call me Caroline. My full name is Carol. No ine.
My mother’s friend was named Margaret Peggy. Apparently this has caused more than one person’s head to burst.
From one Nicole to the world, please please PLEASE ask before deciding to call us “Nikki.”
None of my family, friends or acquaintances have ever called me Nikki. I do not like the sound of Nikki as applied to me. I am so unaccustomed to answering to your little nickname that if you call me Nikki to my face my reaction will be similar to that of you calling me oh, say, Georgie or Phoenix.
I really, really, really do not like being called Nikki.
Me, too! It started in second grade and I cried everyday because the bully on the bus called me Lizard. It fell out of use, then made a resurgence in high school. Funny, it never really bothered me in high school. I think I even had a cheer jersey with “Lizard” on the back.
FB
One of my good friends in high school was (Still is, probably! 
) named Nicky Nicole.
Our cat’s name is Great Whore Jezebel, and you would not believe how many people screw up her name. It is simple. It is Biblical even. What the heck is so friggin’ difficult?
My name lends itself to various pronounciations and nicknames. After many years, I’ve decided it’s a useful method of sorting out people whose voices or faces I can’t quite place. If I’m called one thing, it’s family or friends of family, if another, it’s a friend from college, another, it’s someone at work, another, it’s someone who does not know me. It comes in handy when memory fails.
I’m lucky. I guess people just get the vibe that I’m not a nickname person. Once in a while somebody asks if Marley is a nickname. For what?? 
[Since I’m a guy, Marlene - the only name that could be shortened to Marley, and I’ve only seen that once - is out. Do these people think I’m named Marlton or something?]
There was a girl in high school who called me Marles sometimes, that pissed me off. She’s have pissed me off no matter what, but that didn’t help. Two people on Earth are allowed to call me Marl. My best friend is one, and sometimes my mother does it. Everybody else should be forewarned.
My name’s Bernard. It’s a fine name, rare but not weird, I like it. Sometimes people call me Bernie, which is ok. If you’re family or a close friend you can call me Barney, but there are rules:
It’s not spelled Barnie or Barny, those are just plain stupid.
Barney Rubble jokes get old fast. However, if you ever sing that song which shall not be named, I will beat you purple.
My middle name is Antonino. Please note there are two Ns. It’s Filipino, not Spanish or Italian. No, you can’t call me Tony. I rarely use this one, as it’s a hassle to get people to spell it right, and on some forms it’s too long, so I just use the initial.
My last name has a number of common spellings, so if I say it it gets spelled wrong, but if I spell it sometimes it gets pronounced wrong. My original last name was very unusual and hard to pronounce.
I know a woman, Adeline, who is known far and wide as Mike. Woe is the person who calls her Adeline.
(She is married to Mr. S’s brother Harold. Harold and Mike. I might also add that you do NOT call him Harry.)
It’s Lauren pronounced like the au sounds like “ah”- not like “o”. If it was meant to be pronounced Loren, my parents would have spelled it that way. Got it?
No one ever does. Exactly one of my friends has ever gotten it right right off the bat. In my entire life. She has her own annoying name assumptions to deal with- she has the nickname-as-given-name problem (at least until she’s 21 and out of college, at which point she will change it to Genevieve.)
My other friends get interesting shortened names, but then again, we dubbed one of our friends Big Gay Josh to differentiate him from Big Josh and Little Josh.
Oh yeah. Don’t call my brother Dave. He hates it.
And please, for the love of Og, don’t call me Rach. Rachel is a perfectly fine name (though nobody can spell it, oddly enough, they always want to throw in an extra A and they often as not throw it into a completely wrong place) and I like it. I loathe Rach.
My name is Steven, and all the way up through high school, that is what I wanted to be called. I didn’t really care for Steve, and I absolutely hated Stevie. But now I’m the opposite, I prefer Steve. The only time I hear “Steven” is when my wife is yelling at me. (I still hate Stevie.)
My problem is when someone spells my name, and just assumes that it is with a “ph” instead of a “v”. This annoys me to no end. I have had to learn to tell people who are writing my name down that it is “Steven, with a vee”. This is probably why I have grown fonder of the shortened form because no one spells it “Stephe”.
Or do they?
Heh. If I like somebody, I’ll tell 'em they can call me Jeffie.
'S short for Jeffiner.
In the three dimensional world, I go by the name Anina. When I introduce myself to people, they will often be clever and original and say things like ‘Oh, you’re a Nina, but not the Nina, huh?’
Um, no fucko, the name itself is Anina. That would make me an Anina, not a Nina. If Anina is too complicated for you to pronounce, please just call me Nina, but don’t crack that same old tired joke every goddamn time.
Sometimes when a person sees the way my name is spelled they immediately start calling me by the wrong name. Sometimes these are people I’ve known for ages and they have had no trouble at all pronoucing my name. Once they see my name in print, they can’t get it out of their heads, no matter how many times I correct them. This is annoying and has generated a new policy where I am no longer friends with the offending person.
I also have a nickname-happy family.
Me: jelly, jellytoes, banana
Gwyneth: winnie
Ben: sponge
Kevin: kevy-baby (he’s in his 30’s now but I suppose he will always be called this)
Anya: anya-baby (daughter of kevy-baby, of course)
Rachael: Moo
Glen: tinkerwhistlebabydamn
About the only problem I have with my name is that people misspell it often. It’s Cory. Not Corey, not Kory, and not Korey. Oh, and I’ve had people ask me if I’m sure too. No, I’m 34 years old and I’m not fucking sure how to spell my name yet. Can you show me how?
My ex’s name was Kim. On her birth certificate, it’s Kim. It just pisses her off when people call her Kimberly. So, I call her Kimberly whenever I call her of course.