Ever meet somebody, learn their name, and wonder “just why the fuck would a parent name their kid that?!”. Please post details.
Two for me…
1.) Several years back, I connected in Atlanta Hartsfield airport, en route from Tokyo to Toronto. It was clear after I landed that it was a high-security day - about double the airport security staff were patrolling around, many with dogs. The mood in line for the metal detector was tense, with the airport staff barking orders at people and herding them through like cattle.
For reasons I’m still not sure of, I kept setting off the metal detector. Emptied pockets, took off shoes, etc…but the damn thing kept going off, and the guard was getting more and more agitated. He finally sent me off to secondary inspection.
I was approached by one of the most horrifying looking individuals I have ever seen. He was about 6’5" and built like an absolute brick shithouse. He had a perpetual scowl on his face, and the divots on his shaved head looked like golfers tried to chip off it. He very closely resembled the old WWF wrestler “Zeus”. He begins frisking me, and I’m just hoping to get the hell out of there ASAP. It was then that I noticed his nametag.
“Fueler”. His legal name was “Fueler”. At first I thought it might have been a job title, like the guy who puts fuel in the planes. Maybe he was job shadowing and wanted to switch departments? Nope…his parents actually saw fit to name him “Fueler”. I pictured him as a baby, with his folks looking into his crib, speculating about the future successes of little “Fueler”.
I noticed this right when he was frisking my general groinal area, and started laughing to myself. I was biting my lip so hard that I could taste blood, but I couldn’t stop. He looked up and asked if something was funny, his head now around the same level as my balls. “No sir” I replied, my face now beet-red and close to erupting in hysterics. I think he probably thought I was a homosexual. I was just happy to get out of there without having my head torn off.
2.) I was headed to Myrtle Beach with my family, and we stopped in some buffet in North Carolina. “Shorneys” or “Stuckeys” or something like that. There was a teenage, visibly-inept employee there who was trying like mad to refill the food trays, in order to keep up with the gargantuan appetites of the bulbous customers. He was really giving it a good go, but he kept dropping stuff, putting trays in the wrong section of the buffet, etc. His manager comes out and starts chastising him in front of everybody.
“BUNKUS! How many times do I have to tell you?! Don’t put the two bacon trays right next to each other. With you, Bunkus, it’s in one ear and out the next. Are you even listening to me Bunkus?!”
Sure enough, the kid had a nametag, and it indeed said “Bunkus”. It was clear that the poor guy had a laundry list of other problems, probably the least of which was his name.
