Yes, I have a Boston accent.
No, I am not Ambah, however funny you might think it.
Apparently I look like a Heather, as I get that one a lot too.
-My name is Neil.
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-No, not Dale. Neil. N-e-i-l.
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-Like Armstrong.
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-The guy who walked on the moon?
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-No, it wasn’t fake.
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-Fuck it. Call me Steve.
My name is Sally. Most of my work day is spent on the phone. I understand Sally is not too common but BALLY?? I get it all the time and my coworkers crack up when when I say “no S like Sam not B like boy. Sally!” Bally?? WTF
I’m “Joanna” – while I don’t like it, I can deal with “Joann.” The following list, I cannot deal with, especially as I enunciate very well and it’s just lazy asshattery that results in morons calling me:
Joni
Janna
Diana
Diane
Dottie (WTF? Seriously, WTGDF?)
Anna
Annie
Miranda (excuse me? where the fuck did that come from?)
and the best of all times – Jeff!!!
Honestly, and people wonder why when I make reservations, I make them under the name Bob Smith.
Ah, my kindred people.
My name is Rebekah, not C-C-A, not Becca, NOT Ree-bekah, and my husband’s name it Garret, one T, two R’s.
We put our name in as Jeff at restaurants.
If I had a male child I would name him Garret. Nah, probably Wyatt unless my pesky wife had something to say about it.
Love those names.
I can imagine it being somewhat tricky for Americans.
AFAICT, “Gill” (like Grissom) is more common here (among males, obviously) than “Gillian”, at least Gillian with a G.
I’ve often wondered why people name their kids after the highest room in a building.
This happens to me as well.
Me: “Hi, I’m Trevor”
Them: “Hi, Trev”
Uh, no… my friends and family call me that… you call me Trevor. I think it is rude as well but I don’t get that bent out of shape. But if you do it, I’ve lost a little respect for you.
I have a friend named Geoff. We call him Geee-offff all the time, but we’ve earned that right.
Oh, jeez, you just had to get me started, dincha?
My nutjob parents had one rebellious, demerol induced moment of creativity in their lives, which caused them to mispell my name.
They named me Dawna. Dawn-with-an-A-on-the-end, say it just like Donna. If you really want to, say it “dow-na”, I’m good with that, it’s not quite right, but you’re paying attention and trying, so I thank you.
Because of this, I go by my initial socially (“Just call me Dee!”) and long ago learned to swallow my annoyance at being called “Dawn” by people who have seen my name, and receiving mail addressed to “Donna” from people who have spoken to me.
Anyone who calls me Debra, Dionne, Diane, or Dana gets a forehead spraining eyeroll and a polite correction. It starts with a D, people are inattentive at best, I’ll cope. At this point, it’s almost a compliment!
So why the hell do people keep calling me Karen? WTF? The A and the N are the only sounds that registered in their sorry little brains?
My name is Elizabeth. It’s common. Very common. There’s even a queen with the same name. I cannot begin to tell how many times I’ve been called…Melissa.
They aren’t even close. WTF?!?!