In fifth grade we all gave each other nicknames to use when we played basketball during recess. Mine was "The White Doctor." I was a Philadelphia 76ers fan. I loved Dr. J. I'm white. I loved my nickname.

A kid in junior high called me "Monkey Breath" for a while. My last name is Monks, which is pretty close to "Monkey." I didn't know where he got the "Breath" part from. I brushed my teeth regularly. His name was M. He didn't have a nickname. He may have had one, but I didn't know him that well. M would yell, "Hey, Monkey Breath!" at me from across the cafeteria. I'd just laugh nervously, wave, and hope he didn't come any nearer.

My grandfather called me "Crackerjack." Grampum called all his grandchildren "Crackerjack," even the girls. I don't know why. There were a lot of us and maybe it was easier that way. "Hey, Crackerjack" my grandfather would say to me, "What's the capitol of South Dakota?" He was big on geography. It was sort of intense, actually. If I gave a wrong answer his face would go sour and he'd pretend like I wasn't there.

I took French in high school and my teacher called me by my French name, "Christoph." I liked it. It sounded European and mysterious. I tried to get people to call me Christoph outside of French class. I remember it being hard to suggest the name change without sounding conceited. Most of my friends told me to get a life. There was one girl from French class who called me Christoph for all of high school. I forget her name, but she was smart and quiet and wore big glasses. We'd pass each other in the hall ans she'd always say "Hey Christoph!" I didn't know how to respond because I never could remember her name. I usually just said "Hey" back to her.

During college I worked at a record store. I was a big Van Morrison fan. One of his nicknames was "Van the Man." A few of my co-workers started calling me "C the Man." I liked it at first; it made me feel a part of the team. Then I realized that most of the people I worked with never had heard of Van Morrison. They were all listening to Metallica and Ice Cube, so my nickname held very little meaning to them. Whenever a new person started working at the store they'd ask why everyone called me "C the Man." It was awkward having to explain the reason for my nickname. I felt like a loser actually. One guy thought that people called me "C the Man" because there was another C who was a woman that worked at the store. After a while I privately hoped that people would stop calling me "C the Man." Nicknames are more trouble than they're worth, really.