If there is one thing I’m truly bad with, it’s names. I always seem to forget them or worse call people names other than their actual names. If you look like a Ronel, you’d best believe that my mind would be convinced and I’ll call you Ronel even if you are Katy. It’s not something I do intentionally but it’s already been established that my mind has a mind of its own.
A few months ago our neighbours son came over and asked if Peter was home. Confused, my gran told him that there is no Peter living at our house. The poor guy was even more confused because one of our other neighbours told him that he should ask Peter from across the road for some car related stuff. It turned out that he got the hubsters nickname (‘Pietie’) wrong and thought his name was Peter. This obviously cracked me up and, me being me, I started calling him Peter.
Unfortunately to the hubsters chagrin, he’s been called numerous variations of his nickname and different names except for his actual name which happens to be Mario. I’m convinced that there aren’t very many people who knows that fact.
I’ll never forget the reaction of a girl I used to know when she asked me who I’m married to upon seeing my wedding band one day. I told her that Mario and I got married she softly said she always thought Pietie and I would end up getting married. I’m almost certain my next door neighbour thought I was entertaining a guy called Mario when the hubster wasn’t home. When he asked me to “borrow one of your husbands tools” one day, my initial thought was “not my husbands TOOLS!” but I innocently replied that I’d let Mario know he asked about tools. I could tell that said neighbour felt a bit uncomfortable as he asked who “this Mario” is that I keep on talking about. To his relief he learned the hubsters real name that day.
So who is Keith? This morning after dropping the girls at school he expressed his annoyance about another neighbour who calls him Keith. It lead to a discussion of his various names and while we laughed about it I could tell that he was as impressed about it all as I am when I call people on the telephone saying my name is Celeste and they respond with “Hi Vaness.” It’s not like I have a speech impediment or something. Keith is a new one for me however and also the name I shall be calling the hubster for the forseeable future until the next name comes up.
What I have learned from Keith (oops Mario) this morning, is to make more of a conscious effort to get peoples names right. While some people won’t think anything of it, some get really annoyed. Especially if they don’t know my kind of crazy. Secondly it really would be a great idea to introduce yourself to new neighbours personally so that they won’t get the names wrong. Lastly I should probably enquire if you pay per letter for names on funeral leaflets. Let’s hope not because I guess I’ll have to include all his names on there just so that everyone is clear about whose funeral they’re attending one day.
Surviving Jonkersville 