Mystery Bob
Back in 1999 I started working for a high street bank and within a couple of weeks the London sales team came down to Bristol to take us out for a piss up. Across a crowded pub one financial adviser shouted out, “Bob, what do you want to drink!?”. As my name is Ben this caused much hilarity among my co-workers and I was Bob for the rest of the night, then the rest of the week, then forever.

I was Bob. Everybody called me Bob. Managers called me Bob, notes were left “Bob can you call so-and-so”, I was introduced as Bob. It actually seemed to increase my popularity, I would walk into a pub and there would be cries of BOB!!! From people I barely knew. When I told people my name was Ben they would look at me incredulously and say “No way, you’re Bob”.

Six months later it was Christmas and I had given in. I was Bob. To avoid offence I sent Christmas cards to everybody on my floor of the building, even to the teams I didn’t actively work with, and when I signed my name, I was (you guessed it) Bob.

The next morning I was walking through the office when I noticed there was a commotion going on the other side of the office, feeling curious I went over for a looksee. All the lovely ladies were laughing and gossiping and generally doing sod all work. “What’s going on?” I asked. The lovely Louise looked at me with her excited sparkly eyes and said, “Somebody called Bob has sent us all Christmas cards!”

“I’m Bob” I proudly stated, awaiting my imminent adulation from everyone. There was a moments silence…“Oh” said Louise not even trying to hide her disappointment. Everyone put their cards down and got back to work. Self-confidence stripped much? Much too much.

Six months later and it was my last day. Everyone had signed my leaving card “To Bob…” However, when I resigned I must have resigned my nickname because I have never been called Bob since, even when I meet ex-colleagues for a drink.
( Colonel Dracula Two manky hookers and a racist dwarf, Thu 18 May 2006, 17:13, Reply)