It's just a name... get over it.

[meme]

Anyhow, I HAVE to say is, my name's Lars

I have two cousins named Lars. One on each side of the family. One Lars' mother is from Sweden and the other is from Texas. Just thought I'd share.
I use a made up name at work. Both my first and last names are unusual and I'm a freak-magnet so it would be way to easy for them to find me if I gave my real names (we're required to give first and last names). I use a made-up first name because I didn't want to spend an hour discussing it with my customers. Stupid me, I picked a first name from literature, thinking that people read, and I still have to spend an hour discussing my first name.

Another gripe of mine. Having an unusual name, I've heard it mangled in every way possible and have become immune to it. I basically respond to anything that is close. When I was a child I would get annoyed, but sometimes customers yell at me if I mispronounce their name. Haven't they, like me, been getting it all their life?

Anyway, there's a nice way to inquire about someone's name if you must do it, and the woman in the OP didn't do that. She was rude about it.

[aurelemsrealm]

You know, I think that sometimes for safety's sake, we should be allowed the option to make up a name to identify us at work. Lord knows there are plenty of weirdos who come to visit my c-store, and I can only imagine how many more weirdos I've called as a telemarketer.

I think I've got a story that just defies reason....

Backstory: I worked for this one c-store chain for about 5 years. Employee turnover was quite high because the ownership of the company was impossible to please. They frequently went on mass firing rampages when they visited a store and disliked the way the manager ran it. It was nothing for a member of upper management to visit a store only to end up terminating just about everyone working in that store.

The manager who originally hired me for the store where I worked quit over a salary and bonus dispute a few months later.

The next manager had too many personal problems to handle her job.

The third manager was okay, but my main conflict with her was that she stuck me with graveyard shift because I was a reliable employee. It just infuriated me because I constantly asked to be scheduled for day shift or second shift because I didn't want graveyard shift.

The day shift clerk refused to work anything else because she had kids in school. She was riding the gravy train, so she stayed for most of the time I was employed there. She was hired a couple of months before me, and I ended up quitting a few months after she left. She didn't even have to work weekends, just straight weekdays. I didn't care so much about all of that.

I wanted off graveyard shift so bad that I couldn't stand it. I even started refusing to do the chores I disliked, and flat out said that I'm not doing it because I don't want to do it. This manager said that she knew she could depend on me to show up for work, and that was all that mattered to her. So, we constantly went round and round over that issue. I just hated graveyard shift because it was mostly junkies, drunks, and weirdos. I wasn't afraid of them, I just disliked most of them. So, I was definitely took my frustrations out on the ones who caused me problems.

Now, for the story that just defies reason: One night, I was scheduled to be off work. I had made plans for the day to help my parents with some stuff at their house, and arrived back home by say 8 p.m. They lived just 10 minutes outside of town.

I was just watching some movies I'd rented, trying to get unwound before going to bed when the phone rang. I was tired because I hadn't slept much since getting off work that morning. The caller ID said exactly what I knew it would say. Work was calling. Great, dumbfuck (I don't remember which of the many who was slated to work on my nights off) must have called in tonight!

I just unplugged the phone from the caller ID unit. That way, I could still monitor incoming calls via caller ID. I went back to watching the movies I'd rented. Everytime I got another drink or went to the bathroom, the light on the caller ID unit was blinking yet again. Guess who? Yep! I continued to ignore it.

There was a knock at the door about 11:30 p.m. Who the hell is knocking at my door this time of night? There would occasionally be a late night visitor stopping by to look for the previous tenants. Otherwise, anyone who wanted to talk to me would call me first that late at night because they know I have an erratic schedule.

I answered the door, surprised to see one of the store's regular customers. She had this kind of sheepish look on her face. She was an older lady who usually came in during the early hours of graveyard shift to get a cup of ice. I liked chatting with her because she was nice. You could just about imagine the surprise at seeing one of the store's customers at my door that late at night.

The next words out of my mouth, "You've got to be kidding me!!!!! It's not bad enough they call and call just because I ignore the phone!!!! Now they're sending customers to my house!!!! This is ridiculous!!!!!" Words can't even describe my mood at that moment. The lady apologized for intruding at seeing my reaction. I told her I wasn't mad at her even though I had to question why she would agree to get involved.

The manager had apparently told her that I agreed to work if dumbfuck called in or pulled a no show. No, I did not, nor would I have agreed had it ever come up in discussion. I only agreed to work what I was scheduled in advance, my regular schedule, no more! Yes, I could have used the overtime, but I really didn't want to be there if they couldn't give me second or day shift. The manager totally disregarded what I said in favor of what she wanted to hear. I was beyond mad.

The customer and I stood on my porch talking about it for a few moments. She apologized several more times for the mistake, and hoped it didn't make me think any less of her. I assured her that I was not mad at her over what had happened, but I was still mad it happened this way at all. My only issue with her, which would pass, is why she would agree to come to my house, but I now understood that she'd been mislead into believing that she was helping.

Did I mention that I was furious and stunned by this incident, although those two words don't even begin to truly describe it?

I told her to tell the manager that I won't be working tonight because I'd had a few beers while watching my movies, which I really hadn't. Only I knew that for sure, though. Believe me, though, I did start on the beer after that. I was that furious. I was half tempted to pay the store a visit in case the manager was there, but thought better of it until the morning. I finished watching my movies, then went to bed.

My temper had cooled sufficiently by morning. Needless to say, the manager and I had a long talk about that the next morning. I showed up bright and early. After I left, I called the main office and had a talk with the company's HR director. Nothing more was done than having a report filed, which was frustrating. The only reason I know a report was filed was because I received a hard copy in the mail a few days later.

It never happened again, though.

It took a few days, but she did finally apologize for letting her own frustration at the moment impair her judgment. We had always had a friendly relationship despite the constant arguments about graveyard shift other than that incident. She even told me that she didn't blame me for filing my grievance with HR because she probably would have done the same thing in my place. It took time, but we finally got over it.

By the way, I've never heard of any such law requiring a person to provide his/her real name on a nametag for work. That person who made that point would have to show me what piece of legislation dictates that requirement.

[MoonChild2007]

My name is Avril and before that "singer" came into the picture, people would butcher my name endlessly. Didn't bother me so much and normally I'd just let it go. Mostly I'd get people who would just say, "What a pretty name." I'll accept pretty much any nickname/butchering of my name. Hell, I even use Advil as a way to help people pronounce my name.

Now I often get, "Oh, like the singer?" Nowadays, most people realize I've probably heard that one too many times and usually say it as a joke and then say, "I'm sure you've heard that before." Yeah, and I've heard that phrase as well.

But don't...EVER!...call me April. Yes, I know that's what my name means but that is not my name. It doesn't help that my middle name is June. My mother did not do it on purpose, I do know the stories behind both my names and neither one of them had to do with months.

I get the same thing. It wasn't until the show Rugrats that people started to recognise my name!

[moekosowl]

My name is very simple, and as my parents ensured, spelt in an intuitive fashion. It is Beorn.

Ok, please don't kill me for this, but I have to ask.....is it after the character from The Hobbit?
*runs*

[Imogene]

I get the same thing. It wasn't until the show Rugrats that people started to recognise my name!

Angelica?
Deedee?
Lillian?
Let's see... who else in that was female? Oh, the next door neighbor girl, whose name I'm blanking on...

[Princess-Snake]

Angelica?
Deedee?
Lillian?
Let's see... who else in that was female? Oh, the next door neighbor girl, whose name I'm blanking on...

Are you thinking of Susie?

[WorkAtBBuy]

I get people that feel the need to know why I go by my nickname instead of my real name. My real name is Allison, but I go by Allie. They want to know why I don't use my real name. Ummm... because I like Allie? They still insist that I should be happy by my given name and it's so pretty. I am happy with my name, I just want to shorten it 'cause I like it shortened. And god forbid they find out my middle name. "Allison Jane. That's so pretty! You ought to have that as your first name instead of your first and middle!" Thanks for the compliments but do you mind just calling me Allie? How hard is that? And if you overhear any of my friends calling me Allie-cat, do not repeat it. Only my friends are allowed to. (And don't ask how I got Allie-cat either. It's an embarrising first grade incident.)

I get that, too. I go by my middle name "Danielle" en lieu of my first name "Elizabeth". All the time people ask me "Why don't you go buy your first name, blah, blah, blah.." Even relatives get up in arms. "I wanted to call you Liz, but from the start you insisted on using your middle name!" C'est la vie!

[Sofar]

Ok, please don't kill me for this, but I have to ask.....is it after the character from The Hobbit?
*runs*

No one's actually asked me that before. Me parents had read The Hobbit at the time, but it's more accurate to say that they got the name from the same place Mister Tolkein did. Beorn's an Old English word what means bear. Aside from growing a full beard very early, in the last nineteen years I've manifested no bear-like qualities.

[Jester]

Woman: What's your background?

This is the one that gets me. A lot. The typical conversation I get into goes something like this.....

SC: "What's your nationality?"
JESTER: "American."
SC: "No, seriously, what are you?"
JESTER: "I'm a mutt. A true American."
SC: "No, I mean where are you from?"
JESTER: "Arizona."
SC: "No! Where are your PARENTS from?"
JESTER: "New Jersey."
SC: "But where are your ancestors from?"
JESTER: "What the heck does that have to do with me? I never knew them."

Seriously, my ancestors came to this country over 120 years ago from four different countries. While I realize Americans have this obsession with pigeonholing people, my background defies it, and I hate being labeled anyway.

Fact of the matter is I am American, my parents are American, and their parents were American. I am a fourth generation American. Of my four grandparents, three were born here and one came here when he was four. I am a freakin' American. That is my nationality.

And that is, frankly, the nationality of everyone born here.

I know, I know, there are all these people running around saying they are this or that. Great. Have fun with that. But while you may call yourself Italian or Irish, the fact is you are of Italian or Irish descent. You think you're Italian or Irish? Say that in Italy or Ireland, and watch them laugh at the silly American!

But since labels are so much a part of this country, The Brit (my ex-fiancee) and I had fun one day and figured out that, if we ever had kids (which neither one of us ever intended to do), they would be (deep breath, ready for this?): Romanian-Russian-Polish-Austrian-Spanish-German-Jewish-Catholic-British-Americans.

Now who the hell has time for that many fucking hyphens?!?!?

My name is French, a very common name and still people just dont believe me... I once had some absolute bitch on the phone tell me "that isnt a real last name"

My last name happens to be one my alma mater's two school colors. Which is amusing and convenient in many ways. But one time, I was ordering something from the school store over the phone, and the girl on the other end initially thought I was joking about my last name. "No, honestly--that IS my last name!" My credit card went through, so she had to believe me!

Then, of course, there are the idiots who tell me I don't look Italian when they see my last name.

I used to work with a girl who looked totally Irish: strawberry blonde hair, fair skin, freckles, etc. Except she was 100% Italian. And by 100% I mean her last name was freakin' Capone! No relation to the mobster, but still--that's Italian, folks! And no, people didn't believe her most of the time. That is, until she broke out the Italian whoopass temper on them. THEN they believed her!

I go by my middle name. I don't like my first name. I don't respond to it at all. And yet, when people find out that I go by my middle name, and what my first name is, all of a sudden it's THEIR BUSINESS why I go by my middle name.
I like it better. Quit bugging me.

My stepfather is one of those people that goes by his middle name. You do NOT call him by his first name--at least, not if you want to continue having the use of your legs. His only nod to his first name at all (which he despises) is his name on everything is listed as his first initial, middle name, last name. In other words, it looks like this: F. Middle Last. And that is how he signs everything. But trust me, his first name? He likes it only slightly more than I like my middle name. Which is not one freakin' bit.

And no, don't ask me what my middle name is. I won't tell you. I despise it with a passion. Possibly one of the only things I have not forgiven my parents for to this day. Honestly, the name itself isn't that horrible, and the few people who know what it is don't see what my problem with it is--I just hate it FOR ME. Because my name is so short, I USED to sign my name like First M. Last. But then I just started ignoring my middle name completely. I HATED the fact that I used to have my middle name on my license. Luckily, in recent years, Florida has gotten more reasonable, and I only have to have my middle initial on my license, not my full complete name.

Actually that's because it was originally Reina (curse postmodernistic parents) and is Spanish. As a word it means Queen.

That is a name I am all too familiar with, as it was the last name of The Brit. The fact that her last name was, esentially, "Queen" and that I was a card magician made for several amusing moments/conversations.

Mines Leah. i get called princess Leia alot. also, i have a few customers tell me there is a song about my name...

"Ah! Leah" by Donnie Iris. While a prolific songwriter, this was his only major hit as a musician. He is generally referred to as a one hit wonder because of it.

My brother once got a piece of junk mail that was addressed to "[brother's name] Fucka." Yes, spelled exactly that way. We still laugh about that one, mainly because we can't believe that somebody would honestly think that was a legit surname.

It is a legit surname, actually.

"Gregor Fucka...is an Italian-national basketball player. He is a power forward...[he] played at the 2000 Olympic Games and has won numerous championships including the 1998 Italian National Cup with Fortitudo Bologna and 2003 Spanish National Cup (King’s Cup) with FC Barcelona. In 2000, Fucka was named the 2000 Italian League Finals MVP, and won the gold medal at the 1999 European Championship, where he was named the Tournament's MVP." [source: Wikipedia]

[protege]

My stepfather is one of those people that goes by his middle name. You do NOT call him by his first name--at least, not if you want to continue having the use of your legs.

My grandfather *hated* his first name. For some reason, his mother (who was a nasty bitch, and was the reason our side of the family is somewhat alienated and unknown from the rest) wanted a daughter. She named him Sharron. Needless to say, he wasn't too happy about that. Anyway, he usually went by "Bud."

[Ciarrai]

That is, until she broke out the Italian whoopass temper on them. THEN they believed her!

Have you ever been on the receiving end of a grade A redheaded Irish temper? People run screaming and are never the same again.

On topic:
My name is hard to pronounce. I understand that, and will answer to anything that resembles it. I also get the questions about where my name is from, but I don't particularly mind. It's when they insist on telling me that my name is not real that I have an issue with. Gaelic and English are completely different and consequently have different phonetic rules. My name is Gaelic damnit!

[BookstoreEscapee]

On topic:
My name is hard to pronounce. I understand that, and will answer to anything that resembles it. I also get the questions about where my name is from, but I don't particularly mind. It's when they insist on telling me that my name is not real that I have an issue with.

My name is not hard to pronounce, but that doesn't seem to make it any easier for people. When I was in school I was also the kid who knew to raise my hand when the teacher paused.... I will, however, freely admit my name isn't a real name; if you were in Germany, anyway.

My grandfather's name was Spiridione (I'm not sure if I'm spelling that right, but when I googled it I got a ton of pages in Italian). His parents are the ones who came from Sicily. He went by Spity. Not much of an improvement, in my opinion, but at least people could pronounce it.

[moekosowl]

No one's actually asked me that before. Me parents had read The Hobbit at the time, but it's more accurate to say that they got the name from the same place Mister Tolkein did. Beorn's an Old English word what means bear. Aside from growing a full beard very early, in the last nineteen years I've manifested no bear-like qualities.

Oh good, so it's not something everyone and their dog asks you. Thank you.

[Jester]

Have you ever been on the receiving end of a grade A redheaded Irish temper?

Have you SEEN a picture of RW?

Speaking of such, a couple of months ago I was bantering with one of my customers at the Waterfront Bar. He mentioned something about his wife being stubborn.

JESTER: "Yeah, my girlfriend is pretty damn stubborn too."
CUSTOMER: "Oh, I don't doubt that, but she can't be as bad as my wife. My wife is ridiculously stubborn."
JESTER: "Dude, my girlfriend is Southern, she's Irish, and she's a redhead."
CUSTOMER: "Okay, okay, you win. That's the trifecta!"

[Kilamon]

People constantly mispronounce my last name so that it sounds like the same slang word used for a prostitute or a famous singer who was based in Hawaii. Very annoying.