I have had quite a few nicknames throughout my life. I can remember pretty much all of them although at least one of them I got from my dad when I was just a baby. It's interesting how nicknames come about. It's also interesting how some people feel compelled to ascribe nicknames to people. I have a friend who shall be known as J.D. on this weblog who feels compelled to give nicknames to everyone. I don't know where this comes from. It's as if he has decided he doesn't agree with what that individual's parents thought that person's name should be, so he has a better suggestion.

My first nickname was "Boo." Of course this is a term of affection that has become popular in recent years among certain members of certain communities that will remain nameless as I am still smarting over the hockey/baseball controversy and don't wish to start one with one whole section of the country on a Friday. However, I would like to declare that my dad was an innovator and gave me that nickname when I was an infant around 1971-72. Apparently one of my favorite games was for my dad to hold me on his lap and then lift me into a sitting position with my arms and say, "Ahhh-booo." I would then laugh hysterically in that way infants and toddlers laugh and it makes everyone all warm and fuzzy.

The next nickname I remember getting was in grade school. I no longer recall the reasons behind it but for some reason some of the girls in my class started calling me "Grandpa." Had I been a bit older and more suave with the ladies, maybe I could have come up with some great lines and parlayed that into something. Mostly I just smiled and laughed when they called me that.

In high school I had two nicknames depending on which friends you were talking to. To some I was known as "Goofla." This came about when I made fun of a long distance phone service commercial that was popular my freshman year wherein in a young couple is trying to show how great MCI was, or whichever service it was, and talking to a relative across the country and trying to get their infant child to talk over the phone. It always sounded to me like the kid passed gas and burped but the mother exclaimed, "Did you hear? He said goofla!"

My senior year I was known by many as "Stim." This came about when I took a 3-D art class. The teacher was telling us that because the art was in three dimensions, it needed to be stimulating from all sides. We found this amusing. While making one of my constructions I said something like, "Look at how stimulating this is. Yeah, just call me Mr. Stimulation." So, it started out as Mr. Stimulation and was later shortened to "Stim." I kind of liked that one.

My most recent nickname was ascribed to me by the previously mentioned J.D. He calls me "Bear." I wish I could say I got this name for some manly reason, but no. See, at one point I worked downtown and used to take the bus to work. One day, as I was waiting for the bus home a man staggered out of a club just down the street that proudly promoted both male and female exotic dancers. I was standing there with headphones on, listening to the radio and watching him drunkenly stagger his way over. At some point he began staring at me and then we had a conversation that when something like this:

HIM: Are you a bear?

ME (looking puzzled and not having my Gay to English dictionary handy): Pardon?

HIM: Oh, so, you're not gay.

ME (smiling awkwardly): Um, no.

HIM: Too bad, you're a very attractive man.

ME (wishing the bus would arrive soon): Yeah, thanks.

Well, J.D. thought this was the funniest thing he had ever heard and proudly declared my nickname to be Bear from that point forward. The sad thing is that is the only time I have ever been hit on by anyone of any sex, but that reveals way too much about my dating life than I wish to go into right now.

I now have begun to ascribe nicknames. This is because I was working in a Human Resources call center. That meant employees call and we would talk to them about potentially personal and private information. This meant we were essentially locked in a room without windows and that required a key card to enter. This meant we did not have any regular interaction with other employees in our building. Finally, this meant, I have began to ascribe "names" to them even though I have no clue what their real names are.

Now, it seems that I ascribed more names to women. This probably reveals, ladies, more about men. Many of us may try to act like we are not sexist, but in our own brains, we are the sexist chauvinistic pigs you think we are. Therefore, some women will probably find these names offensive. Get over it.

There's the one girl with what must be a three-pack a day smoking habit with blond hair and always wearing something Cubs-related. She became "Cubs girl." Then, was a beautiful Asian girl who was always in the workout room that I just thought of as "Hot Asian Chick." There was "Hat Guy." Then there was this young, dark-haired, Latino girl who had upper-attributes that were very noticeable if you catch my drift. She seemed to know that and so either wore something so tight you can count dimples or something so low-cut you couldn’t help but notice. She was known, in my mind, as "Chesty McBoobs."

Of course, I suppose if I were not wired the way I am I would have struck up conversations with these people and found out their real names. Well, of course, I didn’t do that because I am terrified of talking to people I don't know. All these years after being known as "Grandpa" and I still have no clue how to talk to women. Ladies, you scare the beejezus out of me.

That's from the Bear to you, with love.

Bryan W. Alaspa's novel Dust is available in print and eBook format at his website www.bryanalaspa.com and www.amazon.com.