Great Scott!

So this morning, I had to go and do a favor for my boss. Apparently I was going to meet up with one of his friends, an old guy, at the house of another of his friends (old), who’s husband had recently passed away. Apparently this lady trusts nobody, so there was two other guys from her church (both old) and old dude number ones even older looking wife. Extended periods of time around old people has caused my ears to bleed in the past. I knew this was going to be a shitty morning. I pulled up a few minutes early, just before the crack of 8. Since they are old, they had all been up for about 5 hours, and were cranky, as I was making them late for lunch at Bob Evans. I introduced myself, using my real name, and then pretended to care what there names were. So we go into the ladies house. For an old lady it was pretty sweet, except for the old person smell. I quickly diagnosed the problem, and of course all the old people disagreed, and proceeded to tell me what they “thought” the problem was. This also makes my patience grow thin. I know a little about a lot of things, but in my line of work, I am rarely wrong, and even then don’t really care. When people tell me what they think is the problem, I can let it slide, except when it is retarded logic. This pushes me over the edge. I was midway through debunking old guy #3’s theory, when old guy number one called me scott. I corrected him, only to be called scott minutes later. Soon, the name change was in full gear, and they were all calling me scott. I found myself running out of ways to be polite about correcting them on my real name, and there stupid old guy theories. When people reach the age of retirement, they are never wrong, and they don’t care how much of an ass they make of themselves proving this. So between being called scott, and having to argue my points, I felt a stroke looming. So I started to find a way to convince them what I said was right. Basically I just tell them my theory, and swing it in a way that sounds similar to what they said. They quickly start to like me, but still call me scott. Finally I hand Old guy’s #1, and #2 my business card. low, and behold my name isn’t scott. old guy #2 says ” I thought you said your name was scott”. I said, “no, my name is chris, but my friends call me scott”. Alas, a look of joy swept across their old faces, because they were right after all. So as I was leaving, old guy # 1 says, “thank you scott, we appreciate your honesty, and your professionalism” he was going to tell my boss, what a great job scott did. (There is no scott at my company, and god willing, there never will be) So as I’m walking away to my truck, they all start in a chorus of old people voices yelling, Bye Scott!

Do I look like a fucking scott? I sure as shit hope not. Scott’s an o.k. name, but I like mine better. This got me to thinking, Do I really look like a scott? You ever see someone who looks like they should be named something different than there actual name? I envy the old bastards. Even when they knew my name wasn’t scott, they were steadfast about calling me scott. So the rest of the day, I tried to answer the phone, “This is Scott” it felt alright. I’m gonna toss it around for a few days, but i may start going by scott. A little change could do me good. I might also take a cue from the old dudes, and just start calling people by what I think they should be called. I’ll have to steer away from the urge to call people, Captain Dildo, or Butthole, but maybe if I call someone named Dave, Gary, it will lighten my mood. Maybe people will think I’m crazy, and not mess with me. Who knows? I think anyone who reads this should find one person each day, and repeatedly call them the wrong name, and see what happens. I bet some cool shit will go down at some point. Be cool about it though. No calling a dude Rebecca, or anything crazy. Let me know how it works, I’ll do the same.