By Any Other Name

Before Mr. Big or McDreamy or McSteamy, there was the Wrestler. The Frat Boy. The Bartender.

Did you ever notice how often we give the guys in our lives these sometimes ridiculous nicknames? From past boyfriends to love interests to lust interests, at some point we have all abandoned using his given name for one that simply identifies him by his job, location, lifestyle, age, or addiction.

The Lawyer. California. The Surfer. 37. Cokehead.

Perhaps it is because he is now reduced to being one whose name should no longer be spoken because of the way he broke your heart. Or maybe because he was only fleeting fling and not worth giving a real identity. Or possibly because he really did look like Nick Lachey.

The Rock Star. Delaware. Hottie Roommate. 21.

Maybe speaking his real name is too painful or makes memories of bad (or good) times too real. Or maybe he was not around long enough for you and your friends to call him anything else.

He-who-shall-not-be-named. All-American. The Gym Guy. Sketchy.

On that night where your paths first crossed, maybe it was his something he wore that you noticed across the bar or in your psych class. Or where you experienced your first encounter.

Pink Shirt. Purple Tie. The boy from the snowstorm. The boy from the Y.

Or maybe he just wasn’t the first guy with that name or a military affiliation.

#1. #2. #3. The Sailor. The Cadet. Army guy. Not to be confused, of course, with Navy guy.

So many stories. So many reasons. So many names. So many more stories to share. So many more reasons to invent. So many more names to create. Whatever the origin or the reason, they must serve some purpose if they carry us from our teens through our twenties. I guess there are some things we just never outgrow.

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