Well, my little study is over. Steve the Chef finally learned my real name. It went down like this:
him: "Hey, how you doing Charlie?"
me: "Pretty good, how are you?"
him: "Hey great, thanks." [looks at my nametag] "Oh, Caleb! Why did I call you Charlie?"
me: "Haha, you did?"
him: "Initially, yeah."
me: "Heh, I must've not been listening."
When I was a little guy, my great grandfather used to call me Charlie sometimes (don't ask). Consequently, it didn't strike me as odd the first few times Steve called me that, and by the time I realized that he's not my great grandfather and probably isn't using Charlie as a nickname, it was too late to correct him. So I elected to let him keep it up, for the sake of science. Unfortunately, there was nothing actually scientific about my observations, as I recorded no frequencies, kept track of no dates and times, and basically observed no components of the scientific method. Woops!
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Who was that man in the image you sent me??
ReplyDeleteMy mom would occasionally interject "Fred!" if I didn't answer the first time. Because I didn't respond to my own name
ReplyDeleteMy brother in law's parents had a more fun story though. His mom was telling me about how for weeks on end she set a plate at the table for her third child: I Don't Know.
Whenever someone did something wrong, and she asked who did it, him and his sister would always tell her "I Don't Know"
It took me a few minutes, too