What's in a Name?

Writing is Hard and Sometimes Reading is too

 

Punctuation can be critical when writing a story. A reader can miss the point if a sentence is misread due to a missing comma. Inserting commas in the right place has never been my strong point, but I’m getting better and occasionally I even find an error when critiquing someone else’s work. Sometimes this confusion with commas can result in a funny outcome. 

Last week a friend of mine read his story, but I was confused because a comma

was missing. It was silly on my part because even without the comma it was obvious what he was trying to say. I interpreted an expression as some weird character name. Once I realized my mistake I had to laugh, and decided I needed to write a short story about a guy with this odd name. So, here you go. The story title is “What’s in a Name?” Please forgive me if I have any missing commas.

What’s in a Name?

 

I was meeting my potential new employer at Starbucks. Coffee’s a perk that makes people feel comfortable, even when they’re not. It gives them something to do with their hands. I ordered a regular coffee and a breakfast egg and cheese croissant. The barista handed me the coffee and said he would let me know when the sandwich was ready. I picked a table by the window.

A forty-ish-looking man walked in with a sour look on his face. I hoped this wasn’t

the guy who was going to interview me. What I didn’t need was some know-it-all, grim-faced bastard telling me how great he and his company were. He went to the counter and ordered a coffee. Something fancy, it appeared, since he waved his hands and fake poured. Then he walked over to where I sat. 

“Are you Chris?”

I stood. “Yes, are you with Wealth Strategies?” I extended my hand.

“Yes, I’m the face of the company and do all the interviews.” He shook my hand. 

“I’m Grim.”

“I’m so sorry. Did you get caught up in that traffic jam?”

He looked puzzled. “No. What traffic jam?” He repeated. “I’m Grim.”

Now, I was confused. “Yes, you said that. Why are you grim?”

“Blame it on my parents.”

“Oh! So you still live with them?” I sipped my coffee.

“No, of course not. I’m a grown-ass man. Forty-two years old.”

“Don’t let your parents get you down. No need to be grim.”

Just then the barista called out a name for a coffee pickup. “Order up for Face.”

He stood up and went to the counter to pick up his coffee. 

Did the barista say Face? Is this guy’s name Grim Face? Holy shit! What were

his parents thinking? I giggled inside. Hold it together.

He returned and sat down. “We should start the interview, I have another

appointment in an hour.” He handed me a business card. 

I snickered and put my hand over my mouth when I read his name. “Yes, Grim,” I

grinned. “Let’s get started.”

“You seem to be distracted. Is there something wrong?

“I’m sorry, it’s your name . . . it’s unusual.”

“Yes, somewhat. Grimley is unusual, but combined with the last name, even more

so.” Grim sipped his coffee. “It’s a great conversation starter.”

I snorted my coffee. “It certainly will get people talking.” I opened a sugar packet.

 “So, how am I doing so far?”

“Don’t make any big plans.” He fidgeted with the spoon. “Your name is unusual

as well.”

“Mine, really? I love my name.”

Over the loud speaker, I heard, “Order for Mas, Mr. Chris Mas.”

The young girl sitting next to us smiled. I winked. Grim Face walked out the door.