Memory – My middle name is Earl

Back in another lifetime, I worked at an Air Force Base in San Antonio.  I was a civilian contractor along with two other guys in my office doing base computer support.   Randy was suddenly obsessed with finding out my middle name.  All I would give was the initial, “E”.   He kept trying every once in a while.  Finally, one day we were filing out some official forms and he came and looked over my shoulder at my copy.  Under middle name, I wrote, “E”.

That pissed him off.  He went back to his desk and picked up the phone and called my mom.  We were good friends at the time and I was still living with my mom so he knew the number.   She answered the phone and he asked her what my middle name was while I yelled, “Don’t tell him!”.   She did anyway.

There’s nothing wrong with the name, Earl, I guess.  Still, I was never very proud of it.  I never even liked my first name and the second name was worse.

Even to this day I occasionally remember my middle name.  It sounds just as foreign now as it did then.  I’m always like, “Oh yeah.  I forgot.”

 

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