What’s in a Name?

I live in a condo building, so I run into some of the same people all the time. Multi-unit living differs from single-family home living for many reasons, and I’ve experienced both. When I lived in a house, there were reasons for hanging out in my yard and/or driveway: bringing in groceries, (pretending to) care about landscaping, and tossing the frisbee with my kids. Others were also standing around in their yards and/or driveways, so we’d wave, say hi, (hope I wasn’t) roped into a conversation about landscaping. But I always knew their names.

I do not have to pretend I’m landscaping outside my condo building. H.O.A. fees ensure that, and I’m grateful. The only reasons I run into neighbors are: riding the elevator, laundry room activities (mind out of the gutter!), passing in the underground garage, or sunning in the pool or courtyard area. I only know a few actual names, but Chris and I have assigned descriptive identifiers to stand in for them.

I’ve realized I have a history of naming neighbors and, even if I learned their real names, prefer the monikers. Here are some examples.

• Frank’s parents (Frank is a German Shepherd)

• Loud Truck

• Running Suit Guy

• Cranky Guy

• Dachshund People

• Speaker Phone Guy

• Red Shirt

• Beekeeper Lady (think HAT)

• Lawn Police

• Mr. Three Olives (OK, this wasn’t a neighbor, but a customer from my waitress days)

• Our Daily Brad (OK, we knew his name was Brad, but this was way funnier)

• Football Guy

• Pizza Guy

• Stuck-in-the-Elevator Guy

• The Bloodhound Gang (nothing to do with dogs, BTW)

• Russian Spy

Please tell me I’m not the only one that does this.