Some People Call Me Maurice!

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My first year of university was a gong show, to say the least. For the first time in my life I was alone, in a place where no one new my name and well…I didn’t have any direct supervision to dictate how I behaved. For all intents and purposes I was an adult. A couple posts ago I admitted to being fucking stupid, fucking crazy and fucking irresponsible when I was younger and that definitely applied to the 18 year old my mom drove to university and left alone in a dorm room on the second floor of her new building. For me, being stupid, crazy and irresponsible translated into a whole lot of fun my first few weeks of university.

My first week of university I met all sorts of people: I met my floormates, I met one of my closest and most trustworthy friends, I met a really nice guy and I met this one girl who reminded me of a pixie and she was just as irresponsible, crazy and stupid as I was. I’ll call her Pixie for this tale. She was a first year like me, lived in a different building and was into things like Fashion Week in New York and knew that purple was the new pink and was a hardcore vegan to my voracious carnivorism, love of the colour purple and dislike for clothes that weren’t comfy. So of course we got along disgustingly well and went out drinking together our first weekend of school.

After our very first townhouse party where the booze was floating around freely and some tool bag in a silky blue shirt was poorly DJ’ing whatever music was popular then. I don’t remember what he played, just that he kept changing the song a minuet into it and that some other equally toolish fellow gave me and Pixie drinks that we thought were juice, but were really drinks with well hidden alcohol. So naturally the booze snuck up on us, slapped us across our stupid and irresponsible faces and announced “YOU GIRLS ARE DRUNK!”

Whatever, we were drunk. Bring on the next house party because we were drunk!

While we were walking to our next party, Pixie decided that we needed new identities. I thought, what a grand idea! We need new names and new persona’s as much as we needed another drink because that last one was great. We arrived at the next townhouse and this one was wild, the say the least. There were people dancing, drinking, yelling and I think I saw one girl puking in the kitchen sing. This is where I met an exceptionally nice guy who was in his fourth year. We talked/shouted at each other while Pixie ran off to dance with one of her friends only to return a few minuets later with two beers in her hand.

I decided then and there that beer was disgusting.

Pixie also demanded introductions, giving us the perfect opportunity to use our new names because I had yet to introduce myself to the nice guy who I had no idea how I wound up talking to him, but he was cute, so score right? She introduced herself as “Kleo” with a “K” and announced that it wasn’t just a name, it was an attitude. I thought her A League of Their Own reference was epic and knew immediately that I wouldn’t be able to top it so I said the first thing off the top of my head.

“Hi, my name is Rachael…but some people call me Maurice and I’m a grinner, a lover and a sinner.”

If you don’t get that reference…Well I just don’t know what to say to that other than to wonder if you live under a rock.

As a result the cute guy that I met that weekend who would walk me to my very first university class would more often than not call me Maurice. As would a few other people who I was forced to use that line on whenever I happened to be with Pixie. The name stuck for a couple of months before I fully settled into being simply “Rai” because that’s easier to yell during rugby than “Rachael”. But every now and again, I pull that introduction out just for giggles because who doesn’t love breaking into a random song in the middle of a conversation?

*Sigh* If only my life were a Broadway production…

Have you ever introduced yourself in a fun way or given yourself a crazy nickname for the sheer heck of it?

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