Honestly? I'm Not That Good Of A Person.

I have been working at my present job for about three months now. It’s a good job, can get a little boring from time to time, but I gotta stay on my toes for whenever all hells break loose. More importantly, it pays the bills. Right now, that’s all I really want. Well, that and a jet pack and an Italian sandwich from Quiznos. But you know what I mean.

Over the course of the last three months, I’ve probably met 50 to 60 people that I interact with at work. Now, I am absolutely horrible with remembering names to faces, but that doesn’t matter since I work nights and most of my interactions are over e-mail. Anti-social yet efficient; that’s fine by me.

There are, however, nine people that I work with daily on a face to face basis. And I know the names of all of them. Well, not all of them… eight of them. And eight out of nine isn’t that bad.

The problem here isn’t that I don’t know the one co-workers name (let’s call him “Carl” for now) it’s that I am running out of nicknames to call him. So far, I’ve gone through: Chief, boss, sir, man, dude, duder, buddy, comrade, and partner.

This morning, as I was walking out the door, “Carl” looked over and said “You out of here, Alex?”

I stuttered for a second before responding “You know it…… sport.”

This is probably where I should tell you that “Carl” is about forty years old, bald, and has a wife and three kids. I can guarantee you that he has not been called “sport” in thirty some odd years. That is, until this morning, when a 26 year old asshole ran out of witty nicknames and was forced to use it.

Smooth, Al. Reeeeeal smoooooooooth.

Now, it’s not that I don’t want to know “Carl’s” name. I’d love to. And he seems like a really nice guy. However, we were never really introduced to each other and since we’ve been having conversations for a few months now, dropping a “hey, what the devil is your name, anyway?” would probably lead to a few very awkward seconds of silence before I’d be forced to poop my pants to make up for how big of a douche I am.

I’ve started thinking about ways to find out his name without looking like too much of a weirdo, but all of the obvious trails I can think of lead to nowhere. Unfortunately, he doesn’t have an office with a name plate like the rest of us, he sits at a big desk with a bunch of computer stuff that does god knows what. He doesn’t have a name specific work e-mail, otherwise I’d ask him to shoot me an e-mail.

So, basically, I don’t know what to do. My hope is that one of you “smart” people out there can help me devise some sort of fiendishly clever idea to find out his real name. And I am not above wearing a mask or running a haunted amusement park to solve the mystery which is “Carl’s” name.

Because if I don’t, “Sport” will eventually deteriorate into “Champ” and everything will rapidly snowball downhill and the next thing you know I’m calling a grown man “Princess.”

You gotta pull the Seinfeld. Bring someone (friend, gal, whatever) into the office and introduce them like "this is my buddy ____" and then he will ontroduce himself to them.

I'd do that, but I go into work at midnight, so I can't imagine why someone would want to come with me. Unless they really enjoy watching me surf the internets.
C'mon man, just ask your most "buddy-buddy" co-worker. I'm not saying you specifically have a "buddy-buddy" co-worker, just use your MOST "buddy-buddy" co-worker. Lets say their name is "Rick".
Alex, "Hey Rickster, *finger-gun shoot* Catch the redbirds last night?"
Rick, "Oh hey Alex. No, the damn shit factories were causing a ruckuss."
Alex, "Bummer man. Hey quick question, you know that guy who sits at a big desk with a bunch of computer stuff that does god knows what."
Rick, "Who?"
Alex, "You know. He is about forty years old, bald, and has a wife and three kids."
Rick, "You mean Carl?"
Alex, "Are you serious? His name is Carl?" *laughing uncontrollably to the point of near passing out*
Rick, "yeah, why is that funny?"
Alex, *catches breath* "huh? oh, its just this web-blog thing i have. I wrote this horribly unfunny blog about how I didn't know Carl's name, but in the blog, I actually called him Carl....so, you know....just kind of...weird."
Rick, "..... *cricket chirp*..... Alright sport, I gotta go."
Alex, inner monologue "Did that douchebag just call me sport?"
If there are any birthdays (or other celebrations) coming up in the office, bring a silly card in for everyone to sign and have him sign it. You'll learn his name. You'll look like a nice guy. And you'll feel clever.
Make up a bullshit roster like the marine corps used to do to us. We never knew what the roster was about, but nobody ever questions a roster.
I am with Josh. Make an Alpha Roster. Yup. Do it Alex.
Post a Comment

<< Home

This page is powered by Blogger. Isn't yours?

"I'll be dead in the cold, cold ground before I recognize the state of Missouri."