To say that I prefer being called Steve is to understate. It’s more accurate to say that I detest being called Steven. Why I detest it would take too long to explain. Besides, that I want to be called Steve is really all anyone needs to know.
Most people are great about that. But some jerks, upon learning that I detest the version ending in n, think that using it makes them hilarious.
No. It makes them jerks.
Some jerks actually argue with me. More than one jerk has said, “It’s just that I like to use more formal names.” What the hell? Am I supposed to say, “Oh, well, in that case, carry on”? This is not about what you like. It’s about what I asked you, as a friend, to call me. Why is that so hard?
Even more unbelievable is this one, which I also often get: “What does it say on your birth certificate?” What the hell? If my birth certificate adds the n, are you going to overrule me? This is not about a piece of paper. It’s about what I asked you, as a friend, to call me. Why is that so hard?
If you can bring yourself to understand or, even better, empathize, wonderful. If you can’t, that’s okay, too, as long as you do me the favor of calling me what I ask you to call me. It is common courtesy.
Now, shall we switch gears?
Suppose you’re asked to use names and personal pronouns that, for whatever reason, make no sense to you. Do it anyhow. Refusal is not taking a stand. It’s being a jerk.
And for Pete’s sake don’t ask what’s on that person’s birth certificate. This is not about a piece of paper. It’s about what a fellow human being wishes to be called. Why is that so hard?
Welcome to Cunoblog
... where I share thoughts about writing. I don’t consider myself a writing authority, but that doesn’t keep me from presuming to blog like one. Oh, and I reserve the right to digress when I feel like it.