Nicknames you've given to strangers

On our way to the high school in the morning, my son and I usually see the Obama Stink-Smile Woman and the Pooping Shiatsu Man.

The woman is a very serious walker, and the first couple of times we passed her, we thought she gave us the Obama Stink-Eye. Then she started smiling at us in greeting when we passed her.

The man was a 70-ish guy who looked incongruous walking this teeny shih tzu, which always took a teeny dump during the walk. Why he became the Pooping Shiatsu Man instead of the Pooping Shih Tzu man, I cannot say.

I’ve been HOWLING through this whole thread!

I’ve got really bum knees, and the doctors and the insurance company seem to think the best solution is physical therapy. I had one course of PT at a place in SCal. It was there I discovered all the horror stories about PT are TRUE. The people are always friendly, nice, smiling, all the while they are completely brutalizing your body. The head dude was happy, laughing, good-tempered the entire time he did the tortuous massages that left bruises on the sides of my knees. I asked him with a straight face if he goes home and night and cracks walnuts and brazil nuts with his bare hands?

I started calling him Darth Vader. He thought that was hilarious. I did try a few other names on him, like Grim Reaper and Boris Karloff, but Darth Vader seemed to stick.

He had an assistant who took over the torture when he wasn’t working. She was a very pretty lady who had her own way of brutalizing people. I called her Maleficent or Cruella DeVil. Then I got really creative and named her Mattie, after Kathleen Turner’s character in the movie Body Heat. She really liked that one.

I’ve been having PT when we’re in AZ now. Different set-up, different treatments, but again, really, really NICE folks. The head guy I’ve named Snidely Whiplash. I decided to let the assistant choose his own name. My first suggestion was Gollum, and he stunned me when he said he didn’t know who that was. Okay… Then I suggested Lex Luthor. He knew Lex.

It really helps to tolerate the misery these people impose on others!
~VOW

When I was a kid, there was a guy in the neighborhood I lived in then that I called the Electronics Man because of the sheer amount of broken electronics that he threw out (I’m talking about like half a dozen CRT TVs on a regular basis, almost weekly, among other things), since he was a self-employed repairman or something of that sort (given how much he threw out, I presume that he only repaired some things if it was worth it and the owners didn’t care if it wasn’t fixed and he didn’t make them take them back). Naturally, this provided me with lots and lots of parts and I would regularly go to his house on trash night to take whatever I wanted (along with whatever was put out at other houses).

Scrag LeBeard had a very scraggly beard

Green Panties - She sat on a park bench across from me & my buddy. Long, shapely, tanned legs that she constantly crossed & uncrossed. Oh! Did I mention this was 30+ years ago & she was wearing a mini skirt? We still talk about her.

Goober & Ellie May - They walk into the CPA office where I’m working as a tax preparer. Goober wants to know the comparative tax benefit of claiming Ellie as -

  1. his wife, since he’s shacked up with her
  2. his daughter, since she’s separated from his son.

:eek:

Razor Ramon - mechanic who kinda looked like Scott Hall. Toothpick and everything.

Johnny Unitas - large woman who works in the cafeteria and has a buzz cut.

FUB - large, unfriendly woman who is a friend of a friend of a friend. I didn’t know her first name for the longest time and my friends (not hers) referred to her as FUB. If friend was having a party, we’d say something like “will FUB be there? If so, I’m out.”

I used to work at a shop frequented by Tiny Turtle Lady- one of the other staff insisted she looked just a like a little turtle, tiny, always wearing lots of clothes, and slightly huched up. She looked like if you startled her, the head would just vanish into the clothing. She was lovely though, and pretty much dodged every queue, as she was so sweet and easy to deal with. I remember her doing her Christmas shopping there, and buying four boxes of chocolates, and asking if we could keep two of them behind the counter while she took the other two home, as she couldn’t possibly carry all four little boxes at once…

We also had Rasta Lady- again, a lovely old lady, who was Jamaican, who came in daily, would wait until we were quiet, then would buy something and talk for ages- no-one could understand a word she said- except for the ‘tank ya darlin’, which she always finished with. We just smiled and nodded, and she seemed to be happy with that.

One of the most ridiculous clientele was Ab-Fab Lady- she looked and acted straight out of the sitcom. Everyone was called ‘Darling’, except one of the staff who she decided looked like her son, and she therefore called ‘Isaac’, and would always shout a greeting to, or ask after. She was constantly dippy, and would forget her money, or what she was supposed to be doing. Everything she did or said was so over-the-top it was impossible to take her seriously.

It was a crap job, but there were some great characters there. I’ve not even started on the local alcoholics, which were legion.

The lady whose door is cater-corner from mine is nice. We smile and say hi when passing each other. But I don’t know their family’s name over there. So I call them the Caters. Ma Cater, Pa Cater, and the Cater Tots.

During the summer before my sophomore year in high school, I went with a friend and her parents on a camping trip to Wisconsin Dells. We stayed at this one campground and most of the time, we had fun. However, there was this creepy guy who followed my friend and I around who we dubbed Tweeker. He wasn’t ugly, but his face looked sort of tweeked in or something and that’s how he got his name. He stopped by the camp one night toting a rifle telling us that if we heard any shots, he was going after a raccoon who was allegedly getting into the garbage. He seriously freaked my friend and I out and we spent a lot of time hiding from him.

Most of the other nicknames I’ve used are for old neighbors I’ve had:

**Thumper **& Aquaman - This couple did things in their apartment that got my imagination going. Our apartments shared a wall at the kitchen/dining areas. For a while, I thought maybe they were embalming bodies and building coffins on the other side of the wall. Aquaman was named for their penchant for running the water in the kitchen for what seemed liked HOURS. Thumper did an awful lot of banging on things in either the kitchen or dining area.

OCD Boy - This guy moved in not long after Thumper & Aquaman moved out and he drove me insane. One extremely hot summer day, he ran back and forth from his front door to his bathroom for several hours. The thumping was beyond irritating. I tried knocking on the door to tell him to cool it, but he wouldn’t answer. Then, he got into the habit when he was in the shower to pull the water handle on so hard the water would WHOOSH out loudly, then he’d SLAM the handle back so the pipes would “THUNK”. I was awakened at 6:15 EVERY MORNING to SHHHHHHT THUNK 12 times in repetition. That’s where the OCD thing came in…

White Trailer Trash - This woman lived across the hall and had three young children – all from different fathers. The youngest one was still in diapers. She didn’t do a damn thing to control her bratty kids and they would jump around so much and so hard, stuff on my shelves would fall off! The lady who lived under her had stuff falling on her head from them. Not long before she was evicted (a very happy time after she moved), we heard she was pregnant AGAIN with yet some other guy’s kid. I’m almost positive her boyfriend was behind my car being stolen back in 2003.

Creepy Polish Dude - Due to a downturn in my life, I ended up living in a dive motel for two years. For a little under a year (before I moved to a new apt) I had this creepy polish guy who lived next to me. He was always dirty and drunk. He hit on every woman at the motel. He really thought he was a ladies man. The guy was at least in his 60’s and just grossed everyone out. He was loud and annoying and I hated it when he was “home”.

Clompy - When I moved to the apartment I had after the motel, I had to take what I could that I could afford and in a hurry (you tend to do that when someone threatens to turn you into “ground beef”) and I had no real idea how horrible that complex was. A (now ex) friend lived there and things seemed OK in her buildings, so I figured things would be OK. I was SO wrong! I could hear things in the 5 other apartments around me! Clompy was my upstairs neighbor who couldn’t walk softly to save his life. This annoying jackass would literally clomp around everywhere in the apartment and drove me to distraction (this when he wasn’t playing the same song over and over for several hours. I will never like the song Lake Shore Drive again). It was like he wore Frankenstein shoes or something! He’d clomp around in his kitchen (which was right over my living room) for four hours at a time without stopping. It was a horrible place to live. There was no peace to be had and I’m so glad not to be living there any more!

I’ve been in my current apt for a year now and until last month had nice, quiet neighbors. A salve to my frayed nerves, to be sure. However, in the middle of last month, I acquired a new neighbor who doesn’t quite have a nickname yet. It is supposed to be a single guy who has a baby that is supposed to visit on the weekends. However, that’s not the case. I’m pretty sure his girlfriend’s living there, too. The last two sets of tenants who lived across the hall I could *never *hear – and one of them had a 3-4 year old! These people have not only played their TV and music too loudly, but they have to have loud conversations in the hall and constantly have people over. Which wouldn’t be so bad, except that they don’t answer their door so I have to hear knocking for a good 10 minutes before the friends either give up, or they open the door. They tend to stomp around at 11pm, when I’m trying to go to sleep. Or, they have arguments where it sounds like someone falling down the stairs or something being thrown against the walls or floors.

Updates on the neighborhood:

Jammie Man is long gone. We think the cigs did him in.

Squatter is no longer around either. We don’t think his fam could keep up with his advancing ALZ.

Crazy Effing Mustang Bitch is gone–thank goodness. Now she can’t kill us with her car.

Hello Ladies does indeed have a real name and is a very nice guy. He works on cars with his son all day in their driveway.