nicknames?
one night last week, after a literary event i attended, my friend and i joined some of the crew for dim sum at a nearby restaurant. relatively early on at dinner, a man sitting next to us at the table asked if he could call me deb (to which i replied yes). i immediately thanked him for asking, and launched into a miniature version of my diatribe on nicknames. here’s the rub:
the intention of a nickname is to be familial with someone, indicating you know them well, that there’s a closeness present. however, people often take the liberty of calling you by a popular nickname associated with your full name, failing to ask your preference in the matter. the amazing thing about this hasty move is that it accomplishes the exact opposite of the intention: it indicates that the person doesn’t, in fact, know you at all. the irony is fabulous, really.
so, for example, when someone calls me “debbie,” which seems to be a name antithetical to my identity, not only does it serve to annoy me thoroughly, but it also reveals that the speaker has no idea who i am. i hope that more people out there start to mimic the manners of my table-mate that night, and take the few seconds to ask the question. it truly does go a long way.