You know what’s rude? When I tell you my name and then you compare me to a pink, fluffy marshmallow Nintendo character. That is offensive. Not to mention lame, because I’ve heard it A MILLION BLOODY TIMES. Also, it’s a terrible way to start small talk. You know. By pissing me off.
Furthermore, acting like it’s weird that my name is Kirbie isn’t going to win you any bonus points. “Oh, I am surprised your name is Kirbie,” does not make me find you or your comments interesting. You don’t know me, so how could you be surprised in the first place? Are you surprised my name isn’t Jessica like every other girl born in 1986? (BTW: I have ground to lay on for this one – look it up)
I know this is something I will need to get over. I’ve already gotten past telling people my name in bars. They always think I’m saying “Herby” or “Kirsten” so I just let them think whatever they want. I also bypassed being concerned about how Starbucks spells my name on their cup. I know it will inevitably come out “Kerby.”