Sixteen years ago a buddy scored four tickets to the Indy 500. We had a group of four guys, all in our forties, prepped for the car trip. We had motel reservations, etc all planned out. Then one guy had to cancel.
This twenty-something kid who was a hanger-on heard we had an opening and began begging us to take him. Finally, we relented, mostly for pure economic reasons.
He was thrilled. But he pointed out that we all had nicknames, and he didn’t. My buddy Clem (Steve) decided we should call the kid Jism, and it stuck. The kid was so happy to be part of our group and to have any nickname, that he took to Jism immediately. Kind of pathetic, but hey.
When we returned from the trip the kid was amazed that everyone in town already knew his nickname (Clem had called a few people who spread the word).
A short time later Jism had to move on (he apparently impregnated his gf’s mom). We all speculated that wherever the kid settled down, he’d tell everyone, “folks call me Jism”.
I’m also in IT. One place I worked we had a guy with the nickname ‘Merlin’. He claimed that’s what they called him at his last place because he was such a wizard with spreadsheets. It’s not what we called him for sure, as he was an arrogant git.
He insisted that we used Merlin on his login, email address and even HR and Payroll. Nobody knew what his real name was, but we took guesses that it was probably something embarassing.
My ex-husband’s given name is Stephen, but lots of people call him Dick.
…
OK, now that that’s out of the way, my Grandma’s whole family had nicknames, to the point that I didn’t even realize that Aunt Buddy was actually Mittie until I read her obituary. Grandma was called Jeff, another sibling was Mutt, etc.
And one of Daddy’s best friends was Dave, but everyone called him Slick. (Except us kids. We called him Uncle Slick.)
And speaking of uncles, all of the nieces and nephews call my brother Tater head. I don’t even remember how that started. And collectively, my brother calls the youngsters The Tater Tots.
And I used to work with a guy who went by Worm. Never did know his real name. I’ve also hung around a few bikers in my day, though. If you learned Gypsy or Smokey or Rojo’s given name? You were either quite close, or you needed it to go bail him out of jail.
Heh. The Tiny I knew was a Wingman. 6’8" or so, built like a barrel. One night after I got off work (tending bar,) I wound up the designated driver for Tiny, Rojo, Chris, and Ash (the last 2 being Army Rangers from the nearby military base,) as we carpooled for breakfast. As the rest of us were trying to finish eating, Chris and Rojo got bored and started acting like drunken assholes. A salt shaker was thrown, and landed on a nearby table where two local deputies were trying to eat a peaceful meal.
The look on those officers’ faces when my 110-pound self marched Chris and Rojo over to apologize, and then collected everyone to pay and leave was priceless. Tiny was a sweet giggly drunk, and getting him back in the car was a funny sight - I’d already penned up the troublemakers in the back seat, so it was just me and a giggling 400-pound giant struggling with the task. After watching for a couple of minutes, the deputies came outside and offered to help. I thanked them and declined, and finally put on the Mom Voice and told him to get his butt in the front seat of my car, or he was gonna ride in the back seat of that patrol car.
The deputies were still laughing as I walked around to get in the driver’s seat. But they both thanked me (I made the jerks pay for the officers’ interrupted meal,) and the older deputy tipped his Smokey Bear hat and told me that he’d never seen a better job of drunk-wrangling!
You don’t tug on Superman’s cape,
You don’t spit in the wind,
You don’t pull the mask off the ol’ Lone Ranger,
And you don’t mess around with Tiny!
(My husband’s Tiny was the Samoan soldier he had to retrieve from Down Range while stationed in Korea. Of the eight MPs who responded, 3 wound up at the emergency room that night, and Tiny had zero recollection when he woke up in the drunk tank the next morning. Epic.)
One mine captain I knew was known to every one as Satan (pronounced the Afrikaans way - /ˈsɑːtɑːn/). To everyone, up to and including the mine manager.
Also, one miner known as Stalin…it was his moustache. I hope
We had a Samoan guy on Adak who everyone called “Sam”, as his real name was pretty much unpronounceable. The guy was a terror when drunk, and with 18 years in the Navy had managed to reach the exalted rank of E-3. Several times.
I had a friend in college we called “Don’t Know”. It stemmed from a freshman year incident when he got roaring drunk at a frat rush party and when someone in the house attempted to wake him up and send him home, he was asked his name and he replied “Don’t Know”.
I saw him once 10 years post graduation at a football game and he was still answering to “Don’t Know”.
Heh. My step dad was only in the Navy for 4 years. He received 5 promotions in that span, but was busted down 6 times. Honorable discharge, but he may actually have been an E0!
How did he get his name? you ask, he could do a spot on imitation of George McFly and his go to line was always, “Now Biff, you get your hands off of her.” Not even sure that’s the exact quote but anyhoo, he was always asked to do the Biff line and eventually he came to be known and would answer to Biff.
A friend of my dad had red hair. He once said, “I like being called ‘Rusty’. I don’t mind being called ‘Red’. But, by God, I’ll fight if they call me ‘Pinky’!”
In high school, a friend of mine grew a beard. Someone once told him that he looked like Jesus Christ. Since he was an outspoken atheist, this really annoyed him. So we started calling him “Superstar”.
My father also worked with a PeeWee. That was one of the few occasions when I found the Southern US custom of “Mister/Miz First name” weird, as a kid. “Mr. Peewee” is an odd construction!
Same workplace: Daddy’s colleague and best friend was named (Totally Different First Name) Head. All of the guys called him Peter. I’m embarrassed to admit how old I was before I got the joke.
