I’ve mentioned before that I’ve had a few nice chats with somebody named Lofty (strangely, the last time I wrote about him on here was exactly one year ago yesterday!). Now, as I’m sure you can guess ‘Lofty’ is not his real name; rather it’s a nickname of his. I didn’t make this nickname up myself, I just heard it from my Dad several years ago when I first met Lofty and so that is how I have referred to him since. I’m guessing he got this name because he’s quite tall (just like I am).
Anyway, a few months ago I was in Co-Operative doing a little bit of shopping and, just as I was about to leave, I saw Lofty coming in with a friend of his.
“Oh, look, here comes Lofty!” I thought to myself. My chats with him always seem to be pretty entertaining, so I was quite happy to see him.
“Oh, look, here comes Lofty!” he said to his friend.
At first I was a little confused. Why was he saying the exact thing I had just been thinking? But then, when he came over and started chatting with me, I realised exactly what he meant: he doesn’t know my name either, so ‘Lofty’ was his nickname for me too! I liked that a lot. I sometimes felt bad calling him ‘Lofty’ because, for all I knew, it was a nickname that could offend him, but since he uses the same for me, I have no reason to feel bad. Plus, it’s quite nice, since, he obviously enjoys chatting to me as much as I do to him, because why else would he have a nickname for me? So that was a nice little coincidence, I thought.