Yesterday I shared a couple of airport horror stories with you guys. But, while I was driving to work, I thought of another one. I’m not sure if I’ve ever written about this, but I probably have. At this point I think I’ve covered it all…
Anyway, I used to fly a lot because of work, especially when I lived in Atlanta. And when I returned from one of those trips, I found my car without its license plate. Someone had stolen it, while the vehicle was parked at the airport. Great! I had visions of some kind of bank robbery going down, maybe with a hostage situation, or a dead security guard. And whose plates are on the getaway car? That’s right, those of a Mr. Jeffrey Scott Kay, white male, somewhat pudgy.
I went to the pay booth, and there was a woman working there who looked like “Helen” from Drake and Josh. And here’s approximately how it went:
Me: Hey, somebody stole the license plate off the back of my car while I was in Chicago.
Helen: …What do you want me to do about it?
Me: Thanks for your help!
Helen: Mmm.
Yes, I sometimes forget about the joys of living in Atlanta. When I got home I called the cops, who also couldn’t give a single seahorse-shaped shitlet, and was thrust into a multi-day odyssey of voicemail, etc. It sucked, but apparently it happens all the time. When I returned to work, and started telling the story I was interrupted every time, by people who had it done to them, as well.
If any of you are interested in my new writin’ and self-publishin’ group at Facebook, please feel free to join. I will use the page as a dumping ground for my many frustrations and freak-outs while writing my second novel. And we’ll discuss other things, as well. In fact, our old friend Brad just published his list of ten books that have stayed with him through the years there. I’m slowly posting mine, as well. If this stuff interests you, please join-up. If not, it’s cool. I understand.
And I have a 3 o’clock meeting. I need to get outta here. I’ll leave you with this obituary from a few days ago:
For a Question, I’d like to know what you think his kids’ names were. Maybe Sandy? What do you have on this important matter? Also, what people have you known with ridiculous names? Please tell us about ’em in the comments.
And I need to go. I can’t be late.
See ya on Monday!
Ol’ Dick Butt was a legendary masseuse who is remembered for his “pitching prowess”. It really says that.
And yes Jeff…. it does say one of his kids was Sandy Butt!!!
I guess Dick’s final massage didn’t have a happy ending?
Dick should have a son named Pork. And a daughter named Cigarette.
I knew a guy named Tom Morrow.
Also 2 brothers – Brook and Lake Trout
I knew a dude named Richard D. Lick!!!!
Dude had a 55-year massage career and managed to raise a family on his salary. That’s a world and a time that no longer exists.
I am guessing that the “Dick Butt Massage Parlor” attracted a specialized clientele.
I miss Drake and Josh. I miss my kids being “little” enough to watch Drake and Josh, too.
I used to know someone who told the tale of going to school with a guy named Jerry Cherry. This being the south, everyone just called him Buster.
True? idk…
A few patients came through an office I worked in many moons ago:
Crystal Glass
Merry Christmas.
They were very nice girls with a lifetime of “is THAT really your name?”
More recently, we had this goofus who used to come in already self-diagnosed. With the help of WebMD and other sites that scare the bejesus out of you even if all you have is an itchy ass…..he knew his fate. He loved and I mean LOVED having surgery and looked forward to it. He also carried his medical chart around like a cheap novel. His name? Joseph Joseph. Not a typo. Joseph. Joseph. We called him Joe Squared. He had an awesome comb-over and glasses so thick he could see the core of the earth.
I called his house to confirm an upcoming appointment one day. His mother answers the phone. I asked if Joseph was home. She promptly asked me , “Which one?” I just sat there laughing so hard, I couldn’t answer her. I thought….are you fucking kidding me? He’s a Jr. And evidently still lives with Sr.
“See the core of the earth”, classic, can’t stop laughing. I’m gonna have to borrow that one….
I went to high school with a girl named Jingle Bell. She was from a wealthy family but apparently while they made a lot of cash, they were lacking in the brain department.
I used to have to deal with a firm client who’s contact person was named Linda Horney. The company’s address was on Big Beaver Road. That’s no lie.
My brother-in-laws name is Robert Robertson…. We call him “Rob Rob”… He’s not pleased
Fartrell Kluggins
Lemoine Morecock
Ozell Fluck
Edith Peed
Just three from my long list of funny names. I’ve been collecting them since 1964.
Worked for a family with the last name Dick. At work there was an out building that used to be a liquor store. Employees appropriately name the building Dick liquors. One Dick son married a woman with the first name of Lotta. True story.
I had a client named Bud Miller (two beers). One of my co-workers claims to have had a client named Bob Ondick.
There is a contractor around here called Booze Plumbing. The DMV wouldn’t allow Mr. Booze to have his name on his license plate.
People with numbers for names: There was a kid in my class in junior high named Stephen Twenty. At one summer job, I had a co-worker named Gary Six – not to be confused with Star Trek’s Gary Seven.
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Almost forgot. Bill Lear – creator of the Lear Jet – had a daughter named Shanda. I think she’s running the company these days.
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I grew up with a girl named Kandy Kane. I work with a lady named Sharon Peters and used to work with a lady named Sharon Cox. But the best is a guy at my office named Mike Hunt. Needless to say, he goes by Michael.
I work with a young chap named Leonard Stead (pronounced “steed”). There has been no end to the joy that name brings me when I hear it. There aren’t nearly enough 18-year-olds named Leonard.
I worked with a girl named Princess. I laughed when we were introduced, thinking she was joking. She was not.
There is an office (dentist, maybe?) down the street from me with the name Ngyuen du Phuc. It’s located right near Pho King Good Pho…which is not someone’s name, clearly, but a great play nonetheless.
Sofa King… for all your furniture needs. Our prices aren’t just low – they’re Sofa King low!
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I dated a girl in high school with the name Brandy Ann Rum her initials are BAR. Parents may have been some drinkers back in the day.
Browning Automatic Rifle? That’s one high powered girl. One girl I dated in high school had the initials RAM, and I’ll let that slide. I mean, rest.
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These comments always remind me of my high school classmate, the unfortunately named Dickson Hand.
I was once sent a ripped out page of the yellow pages directory with an ad for a gynecologist named Harry Beaver. You’d think he might’ve gone with Harold, but maybe he decided to just own it.
Then there are the many foreign names that are unintentionally funny. My favorite is the Indian surname “Dikshit”. Can you imagine being a teacher and having to take attendance with that one lurking on the list?