“What's Your Name?”
Feb 16, 2020“Hey, what’s your name?”
“What’s your name?”
“I asked you first.”
“True, but I don’t tell my name to strangers.”
“So, how do you make friends?”
“I don’t.”
“You mean to tell me you don’t have any friends?”
“Well, I have a few.”
“And how did you meet them?”
“Oh, you know . . . life.”
“What does that mean?”
“Some are from school, some are from work, et cetera.”
“So, how did you find out their names if you didn’t tell them your name?”
“I never said I didn’t tell them my name. I said I don’t tell my name to strangers.”
“So, how did these people become not-strangers, by the way you meet people?”
“Usually random. Probably heard their name spoken by someone else.”
“Well, that sounds like cheating.”
“Why do you think it’s cheating?”
“I dunno. It’s like you found a loophole.”
“And how is that cheating? I consider it pragmatic.”
“I guess so. . . .”
“So, are you going to tell me your name, stranger?”
“What’s in it for me if I tell you my name first, considering I asked for your name first?”
“I dunno, maybe a new friend?”
“But then we’re starting this friendship with you having the upper hand.”
“And? What would be so bad about that?”
“I don’t like not having the upper hand.”
“Control issues much?”
“Yeah, you can probably say that.”
“So maybe I don’t want to be friends with people who have control issues.”
“Well, it’s not that bad.”
“But how do I know that?”
“I guess you don’t. You just have to take my word.”
“And what if I said I never take the word of a stranger?”
“Then I guess we’re at an impasse.”
“So, tell me your name and we can be done with this little charade.”
“But I asked first, and I want you to tell me first.”
She shrugged and took a sip of her scotch. He kept staring at her, smirking, as he took a sip of his whiskey. After a minute, he turned in his seat and they both stared at the kitsch on the wall behind the bar.