the most unrealistic thing about tv shows is how literally out of all the characters on the show no two characters have the same name??? like take any group of 20 white people i guarentee you like five of them are john
One of my friend groups has numbered Daves, not to mention Dan and T’other Dan, commonly known just as T’other.
Aoifes, Aoifes everywhere :)
I worked in a small team of three people, the other two of whom were named Caroline. A fourth member was added to the team shortly before I left for another job. Her name was also Caroline.
I think everyone was slightly relieved I was only there for a short time because they didn’t have to stop calling the team “the Carolines.” As in “I’m not sure, maybe the Carolines will know which driver has the north Rocommon route on recycling week.”
This is why I translated my name when I started college. Apparently something about 1980 - 1982 or so made people call baby girls Sarah.
My social circle has so many Beth’s and Mike’s that we had to resort to assorted nicknames to sort everyone out.
My middle school had about thirty people all told, students and teachers combined. There were two Kathys, two Matts, two Daves (and one set of Matt and Dave were twins), two Louises, and three Justins. One usually appended an extra label if context wasn’t enough, but I do remember that one of the Justins was fondly known as Beaker.
work has two Davids two Marks (and a Marquisha) an Ashley, an Ashleigh, two Christophers two Joes, a Rob and a Robin (and we used to have a Robby, two Amandas and another Ashley.)
We also have a running joke about how in order to work here you must share a name with someone who already does.
Oh! I forgot about a guy I knew in college, name of Steven. He somehow ended up (and it was not deliberate) sharing living space with two other guys with the same name. The landlord set up the answering machine along the lines of “Hello, you’ve reached Steve, Steve, and Steve. Steve, Steve, and Steve are not available right now, but if you want to leave a message for Steve, Steve, or Steve, Steve, Steve, or Steve will get back to you.”
IT GOT BETTER
I once went to summer camp for poor kids, and out of the like, eight girls (me included) that stayed in a cabin together, three of them were called Kayla.
I went through school from Grade Seven through to graduation with two girls called Erica. Spelled the same way, same middle and last initials. And they were BFFs. A science teacher gave up and just started calling them “Erica squared.”
ETA:
I also went through school with at least a half-dozen Matts (graduating class of 300-ish, which was like, unnaturally big for my high school), and how could I ever forget Mark and Marc?
Annnnnnnnd then it happens in my family, too, ffs.
My mom’s brother and my mom’s brother-in-law (my mom’s sister’s husband) are both called Randy (Randall, still have the same middle initial).
My first cousin and my other first cousin’s husband are both called Justin.
My first cousin’s girlfriend and my aunt are both called Kim (same middle initial, too–one’s middle name is Ann and the other’s Anne).
My mom’s late partner was called Eric, and so is my grandmother’s husband.
My mom’s little sister, Paula, dated a guy called Paul, years ago. (Thankfully, that didn’t work out).
Two of my cousins - brothers, same last name - married women named Cindy, who now have identical names. I have 3 aunts named Mary (mom’s sister, dad’s sister, and one by marriage). My best friend has a cousin-in-law with the same first and last name. I once worked with 2 Renees and 3 Carloses all at the same time. I know so many men named Mike that it’s pretty common - across multiple jobs over the years - to refer to them all by last name, as a matter of course.
Oh, and one of the reasons I started going by Faris is that my name (first and last) is so common no one could find me on social media. First name in particular - once upon a time I went to a festival with an exgirlfriend, and her crew already included a Nicole, a Nicki, a Nico, and a Nik before I got there.
Names, man. Gotta love it.
There were seven Amy-types in the big public school second grade I spent a hellish year in. Not all spelled the same, but still.
There were five Amy Mynames on the regional public library register. Two of us were Amy Middlename Myname, and two (thankfully not the same two) had child cards registered to mothers Mothersname Myname. Forgetting my library card was a _trial_.
Also, there’s an icebreaker game where you have to find someone with the same middle name as you? (A game I have never seen played except in racially homogeneous groups, probably for good reason.) My group will always be the biggest and most age-varied group. Middle name of the century, I swear.
So, my mom and dad got divorced when I was little and my mom remarried a guy who also had kids. Consequently, of the six sisters/stepsisters/half sisters I have, two of them are the same age and have the same name. This, obviously, was completely accidental.
During frosh week at my university, the general rule is “if you don’t remember her name it’s either Sarah or Hannah.”
Also my brother is William the 8thMy grandfather on my mom’s side was named Joseph. His daughters, my mom and my aunt, both respectively married men named Joseph (my dad and my Uncle Joe). His son, also named Joseph, married a woman named Joanna. Also called Jo.
This also doesn’t count the various cousins scattered throughout the family who share the same name. So if you call out ‘Hey, Joe, come here!’ at a family party you need to specify.
We have Davids.
My dad, brother, brother’s son, brother’s son-in-law (oops), husband’s brother and husband’s brother’s husband… all David.
In high school, my AP English class had 3 Sarah’s. We were distinguished by where we sat. There was Sarah-in-the-front, Sarah-on-the-side, and I was Sarah-in-the-back.
Listen you don’t even want to talk about the Jennifer epidemic of the late seventies.
My husband is Michael. My sister’s husband is Michael, and their son is Michael. My best friend’s husband is Michael. My boss’ name is Michael. And I have a niece named Mykel, just for funsies.
And then somehow in my mom’s side of my family there is a tradition to give the boys the name James as either a first or middle name. There’s a lot of confusion at family get togethers.
At my first high school, which was public and non-religious, our grade had about four each of girls called Carly, Gemma, Jessica and Sarah. They were all distinguished, if you needed to do so, by specifying their last name after you’d said the first, though this was tricky with two of the Gemmas, who had the same middle name and last names that only varied by a single letter.
At my second high school, which was private and Anglican, our grade had - I actually sat down and counted at one point, though these are approximate numbers from memory - seventeen Michaels, fourteen Matthews, twelve Marks, ten Davids, seven Roberts and five Jameses, most of whom had been in school together for a decade. (The school was boys only for years 3 through 9, then became coed for years 10, 11 and 12.) The result was that almost none of them were ever called by their first names, or only rarely: most of the time, you just used their last names instead. Which is such a very, very private school thing to do, but in this instance, at least, there was a practical reason for it.
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