Drinking It All In

I hate nicknames. I've always hated them. I like calling things what they are. I think there's a certain respect associated with calling you Joe, Megan, Alex Mack, Mr. T., whatever your name may be. Nicknames, in my estimation, are given either to those you love or those you love to mock the existance of. People who are incredibly average don't usually have nicknames. Sure, their friends might call them by their last name or an abbreviated version of their name...or maybe even a play on words, with their name...something like "Nate Dogg" or "A-Dogg" or "Ker-Bear" or other animal related handles...but nothing spectacular. I don't like that either. That actually goes against everything I stand for. If someone is nice and they introduce themselves with their last name, I'll oblige them. That's their choice. But I don't like it. Anytime I call someone by any kind of nickname, it's laced with irony....cause I'm just postmodern like that...and I don't like people telling me what to do.


A working environment is a hotbed for nicknaming. You can go from Dan to "Buttfuck Princess" within days, depending on who you're around. I worked with a "Porkchop", a guy named "Muscles" cause he would get mad, flex, and walk out, on a regular basis....I, myself, actually unceremoniously christened a kid "Tower of Power" cause two different girls tried having sex with him and he couldn't get an erection. It was too great a thought for even me to pass up. This kid Mike was the king of nicknames though. Everyone made fun of him so often he must have 17 nicknames. I can't even remember most of them. "Final Fantasy" and "Poopdick" come to mind. I once said to him that his mother was a blowup doll and his father was a frankenstein, but that's not necessarily a nickname....more of a statement of fact.


I got that job cause a good friend of mine, at the time, worked there. So, the one day I was working, washing dishes, and then it happened. I was taking my good old time with it and my friend called me "Slow Juice". Now, it's almost 6 years later and I'm still not even really sure what that means....but it stuck. Partially, cause it flows off the tongue pretty easily but, mostly, cause a loudmouthed egomaniac who was there wouldn't ever let it go. So, I had to live with it. I did something unexpected though, which was I got really great at everything, faster than everyone else, and it was decided to drop the "slow". I had, in a way, conquered my pathetic, mocking nickname.


Time went on, I eventually quit, but here's the problem: I still know some people from that time that call me "Juice". And, sure, I long ago came up with O.J. Simpson related jokes for it and it's a lot of fun but when I meet their friends, they'll invariably refer to me by that ridiculous name. Now, personally, for instance, if I'm being introduced to a cute girl I don't really want their first impression of me to be "the guy named after a fruit's nectar". I would rather get dysentery or maybe put my dick in a toaster, honestly. So, then I have to work up to that level of humanity where I can be called Anthony or Tony. It's doing nothing but causing me grief.

I understand where it's coming from though. People want to connect with other people, they enjoy humor and acknowledgement, and those are the feelings it's rooted in. So, even though I don't want to call you "Tornado", or "Big Daddy", or "Skunk Pussy", I accept it. It might improve another guy's shitty day. Sometimes, you dislike something but it makes other people happy and you let it go. You have to pick your battles.

All in all, I guess what I'm saying is legalize weed, prostitution, and gay marriage.