When I started my current job at The Law Firm back in April, there was a little discussion about what to call me. There’s already an Erin there, plus an Aaron, whom they call “A-ron” to avoid confusion with the girl one. But now that there was going to be another girl Erin, it was clear that I was going to need a nickname.
Night Erin was quickly decided upon since I work evenings (in a LAW FIRM, Chooch; not the strip club) and I was like, “Well, that’s better than when I worked at Weiss Meats and was known as The Girl for four years.”
There’s one analyst there who, unfailingly, pauses next to my desk and says, “Hello….Night Erin” in this very overly dramatic, husky tone. And then she laughs maniacally like it’s the first time. Her name is Trish.
I had already been there about a week or two before finally meeting Wendy. She had other ideas for my name. Literally right after we were introduced to each other, she goes, “I think we should call you NightTrain,” and then launched into this tale of her hometown and how everyone called the town drunk “Night Train.”
“So you’re naming me after the town drunk,” I repeated, making sure I got this right.
Wendy laughed and nodded.
“I like it,” I said, after considering it. Unfortunately, Night Erin had already started stick, so only those privy to Wendy’s story continued to call me Night Train.
One day a few weeks ago, my boss had caught wind of Wendy’s term of endearment for me and was standing near my desk, talking about it loudly and laughing. “Only Wendy could get away with calling someone that and having them NOT be offended.” It’s true – Wendy might be the happiest person I’ve ever met. Somehow she was able to slap me with an unsavory nickname shared with a fucking sauced hobo and I found myself flattered.
One evening, my boss was yelling, “Night Train’s here!” and Trish, who was walking back to her office, stopped dead in her tracks. “Did you just call her Night Train?” When my boss confirmed, Trish went on to say, “Why in the world would you call her that?” She seemed genuinely concerned about it. “You do know that Night Train is the cheapest liquor money can buy?”
Just another reason to love my new name.
Good Morning! I will be your monitor for today’s event. If for whatever reason (and you do not have to tell me) you do not want a monitor, just let me know.
Good luck and happy blogging!
hey. give me your order now for Starbucks. I’ll bring it over this afternoon, along with Henry’s pepperoni stick (aka: slim jim).
Ooh, can I have that green tea thing again?!
the green tea frappachino???? with whip??
I like Night Erin better, it sounds classier. Although Night Train reminds me of the GnR song.
Well, I’m not very classy, so I prefer Night Train. It has more character.
Everyone calls one of my work kids “t -Rex” because she walks around with her hands in front of her bent at the wrist.
We all walk around like that basically because you don’t want to touch anything, but for some reason the nickname stuck.
I never even call her by her real name unless she’s in trouble
You can tell who my real friends at work are because those who don’t really know me still call me Jessica. Sometimes I don’t realize they’re even talking to me and neglect to respond which only confuses them more, like I’m in witness protection and am giving them a false name.
Night Train it is!
I’m so used to starting a new job and having people mistakenly confuse my last name for my first name that I’ve started answering to “Kelly” too. I hate having two first names!