“Your full name is Karolis Gintaras Žukauskas?” the man asked. “If I were you, I’d change my name. This is America. It’s too hard to spell. I wouldn’t want to spell that name all the time. And all the forms we have to fill out these days. It probably takes you so long to fill out those forms. I wouldn’t want to do that.”
“What’s your name?” I asked.
“That’s easy.” I waited. “What about your surname?”
“That’s right. That’s my name. I’m Lane Stevenson.”
“So…when you have kids, are you going to name them something like Shoulder Stevenson? Or Median Stevenson? It’ll be cool if your daughter, Median, marries some guy named Bo Dan Ryan. Then she could be Median Stevenson-Dan Ryan. Or if her husband’s Joe Edens, and she turns out to be old school, she’ll be Median Edens.”
“You’re an asshole.”
“Yes. But my name is 1000 years old, and it doesn’t mean ‘Strip of Asphalt Between County Line Road and Lake Shore Drive.'”
For those of you who don’t get this joke (or those of you who just think it’s bad), here’s a picture of beautiful women chewing on a rubber chicken:
Photo by Twisted Oak.