Name Taggus Best Buddyicus

by James MacLaren

Why do total strangers think they can act like one of your best friends just because the damnfool managers insist on placing one of those damnable name tags on you?

“How’re ya doing, Jim? Hey, looking pretty sharp there, aren’t you Jim? You’re a helluva guy Jim, keep up the good work.”

This, from a guy who’s just driven down from New York that you’ve never laid eyes on in your entire life.

And would prefer to NEVER lay eyes on again.

Lookey here, Taggus. The only reason I’m wearing this motherfucking tag is because the idiot manager has threatened to fire me if she catches me without it one more time. It’s for sure as hell that I’m NOT soliciting your friendship, pal. In fact, I think you’re one of the biggest idiots I’ve ever met in my life and would rather die than be caught hanging around with a jerk like you.

Why can’t these dopes understand that just because you’ve been given somebody’s name, it doesn’t mean that you’re suddenly on a first-name basis? Take a minute and try to assess the relationship between us here, Taggus. Read the body language. Take note of the monosyllabic responses I’m giving you. Observe the utter lack of eye contact. All of this is trying to tell you something, but you’re too stupid to understand any of it.

No, you’re gonna just keep on Jimming me as long as you’re in the store, aren’t you?

Here’s a piece of advice, Taggus. You can Jim me till the sun explodes, but I’m never EVER going to be your friend. Got that?

Fuck off, asshole.