We have a program director my boss calls Captain Queeg, and it’s not because he looks like Humphrey Bogart. Any conversations with him regarding the plans for his program lead to much head shaking and ‘WTF?’ looks amongst the rest of us.
Buttons: named so because she wore her button-down shirts so tight, we lived in fear that they would fly off and kill us all one by one
Smurfette: who had a penchant for wearing completely monochromatic outfits. The Smurfette nickname came about the day she came dressed from head to foot (socks included) in Smurf blue stretch-cotton pants and shirt. She never seemed to quite fit into her clothes, either
Not a nickname for him, but for his actions. The man’s name was Lance, and he was a close-talker, who would walk up to your desk (no cubicles, just a roomful of desks), and begin talking about something completely random. I had some fresh bread one day, and he came over to the kitchenette area while I was cutting it, “that’s nice-looking bread, I really like bread” in a slightly Milton-esque tone of voice. For any item you had, he would say “that’s nice-looking ___, I really like ___”. We called it “being Lanced”. We all had Lancing stories of at least several times that we were Lanced.
These are a few from several different jobs I’ve had.
Job A
The Clown - A woman that wears so much rouge she looks like a clown
Mr. Right - A Black man who’s last name is “Blackman”
Mr. Wrong - A Black man who’s last name is “White”
(Yes they were aware of it and they thought it was funny.)
Job B
The Garlic Lady - Health food fanatic that reeks of garlic
ET - A guy with a head shaped like ET
The Butcher - A mechanic that screwed up any sheetmetal job he touched
Motormouth - A guy that never stops talking
Job C
My personal favorite: The Plague She has a terminal cold and hacks, coughs and sneezes on everybody.
This one is not work related: Crisco - Because she was a tub of lard (actually what my X-MIL called my EX)
I work in a cube farm… our building is a block deep, cubes as far as the eye can see. There is a group of… ample… young ladies that work at the back of the building that simply MUST be the first to the elevators at 5p. We call them 'the Herd" because they truly do stampede… They are always, ALWAYS led by one girl. She is about 5’10" built like a linebacker. She is called "The Great White Buffalo"
We only have one that I can think of: The Corporal. He’s the building manager, or something like that: in charge of the “physical plant” I guess, and believes he wields much more power than he actually does. He was overheard on the phone telling an outside vendor: “Mr. P [executive director] is in charge here, but I actually run the place.” :rolleyes:
Actually if his ass is that fat, you might want to make sure it’s a really high caliber bullet, or perhaps just a shotgun to the face. Ass fat is notorious for its bullet-stopping abilities. 
I have:
Splash, so called because she is just like Tom Hanks’s loopy secretary in the movie Splash, the one who comes to work wearing her bra on the outside of her blouse. Our Splash has not come into work with her bra on the outside (yet), but she has actually worn a ski mask while sitting at her desk. In July.
Bad Cop Did you ever know one of those guys who secretly wishes he was a police officer? In a weird way? This is one of those guys. He once made a proposal in a staff meeting that was so over-the-top and strange that my boss finally said to him “Are you seriously proposing that we create a “good cop/bad cop” type protocol for dealing with people who use the wrong color pen on the petty cash vouchers?” He was.
We currently reside down the hall from mole lady . She wears coke bottle glasses but is still nearly blind. I once saw her struggle to find the right button on the elevator with 1 inch numbers. The blindness results in a distinct squint, like she’s always standing in bright light. Add to that the fact that she postures with her head stuck out in front or her, with her nose leading her along. She’s a technician in a lab! How does she get her work done?
In another lab, we had the nazi . She wasn’t very friendly, the type that doesn’t say hi in the hall. But she really got her name for her inability to walk on her giant platform boots without sounding like Nazi jackboots coming down the hall.
Nicknames & Co-Workers: Two subjects near and dear to my heart.
There are two kinds of nicknames: Those lovingly (or rancorously) given to a person by a friend, lover, family member or co-worker and those that are made up by people themselves (i.e. Andrew ‘Dice’ Clay: shudders).
Usually within a week of knowing someone, I cease using their given name.[ul]
[li]I can’t remember the last time I used the names given to my two daughters by their Mom and I.[/li][li]Both my dogs have all but forgotten the names they were called as puppies.[/li][li]Any of my friends and family would be hard pressed to recall the last time I uttered their ‘real’ name.[/li][li]I don’t think I even know the given names of the overwhelming majority of the customers that frequent my bar.[/li][li]At my regular job, nicknames are the norm. I always assumed it was because I work with majority Italians.[/ul][/li]
The nice thing about nicknames is they’re descriptive and unique. Nicknames can always be changed to as the situation warrants. You can give mutiple nicknames to a single individual - there’s no law that says your limited to one or two.
I think my love of nicknames comes from Mr. Colluccci, a childhood friend’s father - God rest his soul.
Current Nicknames of My Family:
=> Jessica (Oldest daughter): Goose, Chicky, Boose-Boose.
=> Jennifer (Younger daughter): Turtle, Phen-Fen, Doopa-Doops.
=> Pal (The dog): Baysa, Bird-Dog, Dog-Breath.
=> Cocoa (The other dog): Stinks, Rotten Fish, Dinks.
(Due to the family nature of this forum, I won’t list any of the nicknames I’ve used or given my ex-wife)
Oops, I’m starting to lose focus. This is a “cow-orker” thread: OK - On to my comrades in the trenches
(If you need to put a face with the nickname, click this link)[ul]
[li]Lenny V (pictured top left): Casper, Poof, Valvanish, The Lip, Saddam[/li](A high-strung, middle aged salesman you can never find when you need him)
[li]Vinny F (pictured 2nd left): Ebeneeezer Goode, Tiger. [/li](The fair-minded, golf-playing boss)
[li]Joey Mac (pictured 3rd left): Turt, Igor McTurtle[/li](One look at the face proves a picture is worth a thousand words)
[li]Johnny B (pictured 4th left): Glimmer Twin, Da Money[/li](Another salesman. The other Glimmer Twin, John P. isn’t pictured)
[li]Me (pictured bottom left): I’m not even gonna go there[/li][li]Joe D (pictured top right): Franz, Boy Wonder.[/li](The muscle-bound, young counter-man)
[li]Marc G (pictured 2nd right): Hans, Juice-Head, Aurelius.[/li](Another muscle-bound counterman. In fact, our homophobic Hans & Franz’s wedding made big news here)
[li]Frank (pictured 3rd right): Old Balls.[/li](The senior yard man / payloader operator)
[li]Steve (pictured 4th right): Adolph, Mussuolini.[/li](The overbearing manager of our other location)
[li]Mark (pictured bottom right): Cracker, Whitey, Killer.[/li](He’s a Hells Angel, so no one steps to far out of bounds)[/ul]
Other ‘Cow-orkers’ that are smart enough to hide whenever the digital camera comes out.[ul]
[li]Jimmy B: aka Lawn Boy - Our 5’4" constuction & landscape equipment mechanic.[/li][li]Mark M: aka Tits, Bro, 722 - The manager who suffers from gynecomastia and is on the phone to his wife at her work ext. 722 at least a dozen times a day. John M: aka Slunky, Dorothy Hammill, Pokey, Lappadulla - A stockboy who doesn’t pick up his feet when he walks.[/li][li]Mike: aka Brigade, Jesus - The other boss who plays drums in a heavy-metal band.[/ul][/li]
All this talk of co-workers just reminded me - I better start getting some done before the weekend rolls around.
Haunted House – Big guy who is pretty quite. Most people walk up to him on egg shells, like a bunch of kids trying to sneak up to a haunted house on a dare. The guy’s actually very nice and very talkative once you start the conversation.
Bell Tower – Guy most likely to climb up a bell tower and start shooting. Actually he’s a nice guy, just passionate about things.
Horsie – Woman with a long, horse-like face.
The Wallet – Woman who sun tanned a bit too much and is starting to show tough, leather-like skin.
Whackity-whack – Woman who has that crazy look in her eyes, like she’s just going to snap one day, pick up an axe, and just start whacking away on someone. The inspiration comes from Updike’s The Witches of Eastwick.
Hi and Bye – Woman who will end up getting upset if your conversation includes anything more than hi and bye. I don’t know if she’s overly sensitive or doesn’t have a sense a humor. I don’t care. It’s hi, bye, and run away.
Jesus / Lion King – Guy with long, blond hair and a beard.
Oh, I’ve worked with some winners, let me tell you! Some of my favorites:
Peyton - The “code” name we used when referring to a particularly bad manager, so she wouldn’t know we were talking about her. We called her “Peyton” because she used to refer to herself as the “QBIC,” or “Queen Bitch In Charge,” but she was really none of those things (except a bitch). We “recalibrated” QBIC to stand for “quarterback of the Indianapolis Colts” … thus, “Peyton” (Manning).
IQ - One of those ironic nicknames, for a boss who was both very cold (“ice queen”) and also dumb as a damn post. As a related aside, my one regret when I left that job was that I did not throw a hole punch at her head on my way out the door.
Numbers - Nickname for a billing clerk who admitted, in the understatement of the universe, that “math was not [her] best subject.” She couldn’t add 2+2 and come up with … well, a number.
Carb Harpy - A woman in my office who is constantly on a diet and constantly talking about how many carbs are in whatever she, or anyone else in a 15-mile radius, is eating. God, I hate her. Plus, she seems to actually be getting fatter since she started her latest diet.
Caesar. My boss is a short, southern Italian man bent on world conquest, and he is dragging me with him whether I want to go or not. :rolleyes:
PITA. Our programmer. Pain In The A**. Brags loudly about his golf scores, is condescending to anyone younger than him with a differing oppinion (“I was there, honey. You were still a little young to form a real opinion”), and totally loses his cool at month end.
The WIP. Woman In Power. Our CFO. It’s actually her nickname she gave herself, after the saying about women in power. (Yes, she’s gay.)
My next-door neighbor is fairly sane, but seems to enjoy making people think he’s a gun-crazy psycho. E.g., he brings home signs from his Army Reserve gig and puts them on his fence: “Caution: Live Ordnance Present”, etc. (Laugh if you want, but his house is never vandalized).
Another neighbor dubbed him Tackleberry.
My boss - **Eeyore ** - is never happy. Ever. No matter what. “Here’s a million dollars!” “I’ll just have to pay it back in taxes” whine whine whine whine
Then there’s Scarey Mary, a secretary of indeterminate age (think at least 80) who slathers her make-up on with a trowel.
**Lone Gunman ** - actually my friend, but he’s dark and angry all the time. Terse, blunt then will try to be cheerful, but just ends up coming off as a psycho. You know the smile that never meets his eyes. Spooky.
I’m really enjoying this thread.
Kitty Litter - the receptionist at my office. She’s called Kitty Litter because she reeks of cat piss. So badly, even her chair smells like it when she’s not in it. I know this because I cover for her when she goes to lunch, and then I end up reeeking of it. Yay me.
Mr. SunShine - sales guy who has to constantly be making noise and/or attracting attention to himself. He walks around clapping his hands loudly, shouting to no one in particular that he’s gotta “GET MOTIVATED”
Our Lord and Savior - CEO who just signed on in January and has NO CLUE what he’s doing. Yet will waste all our time in meeting after meeting assuring us that he’s the answer to all our prayers, and that he’ll take us into the future. Oy.
Oh, and I like the nickname 20Grit, vunderbob. That’s me all over - at work anyway. 
There was an old lady who worked as a secretary at the same trade association as I did in Virginia. Time had not been kind to her. She was also always complaining. Nothing was ever good enough, people always sucked. She used to collect these cheapo figurines you could get when you bought a big enough box of tea bags. I bought the same tea. I secretly placed the figurine I got on her desk when she wasn’t around. She bitched for 2 days about how much she hated it. My co-worker called her “The Crone.” It fit so well.
One of the other guys in my department was uniformly disliked. He was plump. And pale. Definite noticeable belly. He always talked about all the situps he did every day. We called him “doughboy” because he reminded us of the pillsbury doughboy.
We had a VP with the last name of Feldman. He was a real suck up to the Pres. We called him Felchman.
Well there is starey who stares at you whenever he talks to you, there is scarey who is absolutely not scarey but for some reason is always in the line behing you whenever you are out shopping on the weekend (and this trait is also reported by many other coworkers hense indicating he exists in multiple places at the same time, which is scarey). There is bouncer, but he’s a dog, and head of the Engineering and Sales departmments (his title is CEC, chief executive canine).
Some background: I hate “the B-word,” particularly when it is used for a woman. A cow-orker I work with once got really made at me and wrote that word over and over all over my desk calendar. I was about to go ballistic, when I noticed something.
In one of the best acts of revenge in my life, I added two letters after the first letter of the word, and one letter before the last two letters on all of them. When the person who wrote it saw it, she went absolutely nuts, called the supervisor over to see it, just screaming her head off. The super asked me about it, and I said without thinking "Oh, that’s just a song from a foreign cast of Les Mis. The English is “Bring Him Home.” The foreign is “Bonitach.”
I called the cow-orker “Bonitach” until she left. Moral of the story: Never write that word on my calendar. Particularly if your name is “Bonita.”
This is the same idiot who once screamed “F***ing That-Word” at me while wearing a pair of Fubu Jeans with a big “FB” on her big fat ass. I started laughing so hard I thought I would die. Whenever I tell anyone about that, they have hysterics.
One co-worker was Buttercup, after the song “Build Me Up, Buttercup,” which was significant to her and her boyfriend. But since she broke up with the guy, we can’t call her that anymore.
My former manager called my current manager “Janis Louise Limburger Cheese.”
It’s not even really a nickname, but for some reason whenever I refer to our department head as “Her Nibs,” everyone seems to find it hilarious.
Well we have a ‘Mandrake’, due to his resemblance to the magician.
A "Rattlehead’ as he was so dense- he got really upset when we called him this.
And another guy called ‘Words’ because he never spoke.
‘Psycho’- again for obvious reasons.
And a guy with a hyphenated surname was known as ‘Two Fathers’.