What's in a name?

I normally don't print full names or email addresses on here for fear that some of you might turn out to be crazy stalker people and show up outside my window one night...but this practice also protects the innocents in my stories. However, in this instance, I can't avoid it. So, I apologize in advance.

Simple Disclaimer (stolen from The Bachelor blog I sdore):
The following information you are about to read is of personal opinion. If this e-mail circulates to friends, family, enemies…that is your business. However, if you or someone in your address book happens to personally know, sort of know, know the brother/cousin of, thought you saw in the grocery store buying Spring Oreos and Spaghetti O’s or have a spin instructor that looks exactly like one of the Bachelorettes…none of this is personal and I’m sure they are all lovely people.

So, I'm sorry too.

What's in a name? I have two stories.


Story #1
At Academy the other day, Tommy and I had some issues at the customer service counter. The girl couldn't figure out how to make our 37 gift cards into one giant gift card. We fought with her forever about it. Finally, we convinced her that buying ONE gift card for $214.67 and paying for that ONE gift card with 37 gift cards was the easiest way to do this. I maintain that her lack of brain cells is due to the fact that her name was TREMENDOUS JOHNSON. Yes, folks, you heard me right. Her name was Tremendous Johnson. When I have children, I hope I go through the list of names and pick something that means Giant Wiener as well.

Story #2
I had to set up a meeting last week with a woman named Betty Heverly whom I have never met. Everytime I looked at her name, I said "Beverly Heverly"...instead of Betty. Our meeting began and the first thing she says to me is "Do not call me Beverly." I spent the next two hours calling her Beverly...over and over again. I can't figure out why I'm not CEO yet.