Years ago, I lived in Boston for the summer. I worked at the Boston Museum of Science and was quickly absorbed into the Marketing department as one of their own. I was always very good at quickly locating the people that like to drink.
Their department and associated friends in the museum would go out for drinks after work on "Thirstdays" to one of several nearby bars. I was invited and was excited to attend.
Within the marketing department was another Doug. There was a very obvious way to tell us apart, but I think it would have been awkward to always call me "White Doug." In the mean time they just called me the other Doug or similar.
On my way into work one morning, I was driving through the outskirts of the city and in the distance I could see a billboard that was partially blocked by a building in front of it. As I drove forward, more of the sign was revealed. The very obvious part of the sign said "FRESH." As I drove the letters "D" "O" and "U" were revealed. Then "G."
For that instant I thought I was awesome.
Then my euphoria was ruined as the last letter appeared. "H"
The sign was for a bakery. They have fresh dough and like to share that information with possible customers.
At the next Thirsday event, I shared this story with my new friends. As with most my stories, I told it with such excitement that they almost expected to hear that instead of the "H," it was my photo that appeared on the end of FRESH DOUG. Then I got to the end and that was it. They laughed at the story and they laughed at me.
And then from that day on my nickname was Dough and that took care of the Dougs issue.