It's a thing.
I discovered on the day of my grandmother's funeral that her name was Frances. Apparently she hated it. Likewise, my uncle Bert was actually called Lawrence, but he hated that too. I would imagine he'd prefer Lawrence to Frances though.
I have several different names depending on where I am and who I am talking to. Sometimes I get confused...
I know/knew a guy called Dave. Now I’ve not seen Dave in years. But the other night saw him in a bar with a group of people. Alright Dave! Says I, passing on the way to the bar. Only to be greeted by a nonchalant raise of the eyebrows by him, and the stink-eye from the rest of his group...
I think nothing of it until later when I ask some people about him, but no one knows who the hell I’m talking about. Took a while for the penny to drop: but it turns out that ‘Dave’ isn’t called Dave at all - his name is Reuben.
Now back when I knew him, Dave/Reuben was a purveyor of party supplies. A smart move; he’d introduced himself to everyone he met (including me) on the club/rave scene as ‘Dave’. So naturally, I knew him as Dave.
Apparently, Dave later completely lost the plot. Which culminated him wiping out about four cars whilst out of his gourd on booze and gak.
After a short spell in prison for dealing cocaine, and crashing his car whilst out of his gourd on booze and gak - Dave detoxed, cleaned up his act and once again became ‘Reuben’.
Reuben now hangs out with a wholesome group of friends who’ve all got his back, and look upon anyone who calls Reuben ‘Dave’ with suspicion and disdain. As by doing so, they’ve outed themselves as a ‘wrong-un’ and part of ‘that old crowd’ that Reuben/Dave needs to keep away from.
I was listening to the radio, I think, where someone was talking about introducing his partner to The Edge from U2. She remained silent for the whole conversation because she couldn't work out who this person was that she thought was called Reg.
I used to work with a Norn’ Irish lass called Ursula.
When my daughter was about 6 or 8, she made friends with a Northern Irish girl on a campsite we were staying at. She ended up being invited to tea, so we thought we'd go and meet Gee-Anne's parents. Turned out she was called Jane.
An ex colleague prison officer is called Bob but everyone calls him 'Wild Thing' cos he's horizontal & never gets exited about anything. EVER.
My grandad was always called Ern, his name was Thomas, middle name William. I have no idea.
I had a job on a hotel narrow boat when I was 18, and one of the guests was a lady called Normandie, but I kept calling her Holland by mistake!
Everyone has known me as and called me Binners since I was at school. I’m 48. I reckon there are people who I’ve known for years who haven’t a clue what my actual ‘proper’ name is
it doesn’t really matter, does it? It’s just a name
Some people call me Maurice.
I am not known by my real name, most of my closest friends haven’t a clue what my actual name is.
I also have a colleague who is called Theresa, however when I was trying to put some overtime in for her she’s not on the system. It turns out her name is Gayle.
I work with a guy called Philip for, ohh, about five years. he left and got a job down south. His emails were all signed James...
I’ve relatives called Madge and Jeck. Jeck = John, but Madge? PS they are both in the eighties. And from Rhynie 🙂
a mates (now ex) wife all the time she was married him only ever knew me as TT. His name is Phil but everybody called home Bobby or Bobster... a mutual friend I only found out his name is Craig after knowing him for probably the better part of a decade as Colt...
I had a friend called Rob but everyone called him Brian, because he looked like a Brian. This caused some confusion on one occasion when a mutual friend rang up for Brian and his parents told him there was no-one there with that name.
I always call him Richard but his name is Martin
Livin' la Vida Loca?
A friend at college was called Pied. Or name, but whatever....*
Used to go clubbing and hang around a fair bit. Would always introduce him to others as Pied.
Turns out his name was Richard. Pied, was in fact Pea-head. He was a decent sized fella with a really small head.
*.... Pied was part of a group where one guy's name was Edge, not The Edge, but just Edge. Honestly think to this day that it really was his name.
I knew this girl everybody called Bob - it turned out her real name was Kate.
My mum is called Doreen. One Xmas, my mates family sent us a card but my mate couldn't remember my mums name and guessed it was Hazel so the card came and Mum is now Hazel.
Mate who's family sent the card, his Mum is Trish so my mum sent a card back and, taking the Micky, called her Brenda. That's stuck as well.
Pub we used to go in had 2 micks, so one got renamed Bert.
I've nicknamed a couple of neighbours up the street Patrick and Pippa as they are just like Victor Meldrews neighbours in one foot in the grave and I proper have to think what their real names are.
another neighbour is a bit of a Del Boy, always pulling some stunt to get some quick cash, he is nicknamed Shifty. Again, I proper have to think of his real name.
My brother in law is Ryan, but I’ve always known him as Bob or Bobby. It’s jusf because Mrs F likes the name Bob so stared calling him it and it has stuck. I used to work with a guy called Diesel. Never did find out his real name.
Some good stories 🙂
I'd like to think there was an acceptable reason that I always call Martin, Richard but there really isn't. Strangely one of my newer students who's called Phil, I accidentally referred to as Richard the other day too.
Who the bleedin hell is this Richard and why does everyone look like him?. 🙂
My grandmother always went by the name of Betty even though her real name was Margaret. The reason being was she was given the name by her nanny (she grew up in a house with servants) who thought Margaret was too much of an adult name for a baby.
Couple more I've remembered.
A lad I've known years is called Hightower. Years after meeting him I found out his name is Chris. No one calls him Chris.
I worked with a bloke called Spoon. Never found out his real name. Apparently it was because he couldn't help opening his his Gob at work and stirring what other people had said.
Two guys we cycle with are named Richard but call themselves Lee.
One of them is also called nev the rev after his ability to crash grasstrack bikes.
Spoon 🥄!
We had new deputy head at school whose face was inverted.... His chin and forehead stuck out further than his nose, so we nicknamed him Spoon. Whenever you saw him in the corridor you'd shout "Spoon" and then hide. It got to the point where in assembly we were informed that calling people, and especially staff, wasn't nice.
A few weeks later in German class and the new deputy sticks his head through the door to talk to the teacher. My mate sits there and shouts "Löffel!" at the top of his voice....
Unfortunately for him the deputy spoke German!
I had a housemate who was called Adam by everyone except his mum, who used his real real name Gary (which made it interesting when she phoned up to speak to him)
I never call my husband by his real name. I always call him Flossie
I found out a few months ago that one of the blokes that had worked at my uncles garage for years wasn't really named Henry, he was named Richard, but they already had a Richard so they tried a few names out until Henry stuck.
Funny thing was, he said he struggled when his family called him Richard because he was so used to having 'Henry' shouted across the forecourt
Her name was Magill, and she called herself Lil
But everyone knew her as Nancy
My Mother in law was Welsh. Her name was Gwenllian, known to everybody as Wyn.
My Father in law applied for a passport for her. He obviously thought Wyn wasn't formal enough, so her passport came back in the name of Winnifred, which was her official name ever since
I am something of a serial renamer...
25 years ago I had a girlfriend called Camilla... My mate also found a girl called Camilla. I decided that in order to avoid confusion, I would start calling her Ellen. People still call her that, she still hates it.
I my old town, there was a kid called Tommy. He was always scruffy and caked in mud, so i renamed him Dirty Harry. 30 years later, even his mom calls him Harry.
I have a friend whose father had been calle Åge for 50 years. Real name Ronnie.
But then again, where I come from everyone has a nickname, my real name is Anders, people call me Kalle.