This is part two of a post I started on November 15th and meant to finish the following day, but the break-in at my duplex plus the busy holiday season combined with some unexpectedly strong seasonal depression (could really use some prayer for that for those of you that are so inclined) really put a damper on my sense of humor and I haven’t felt much like blogging the past couple weeks. I’m still not quite feeling teh funny yet, but you’ve waited long enough I suppose to hear the story of how I got my nickname. Sorry for the delay, but here it is so keep your shirt on.
What a stupid nickname. It sounds like a really bad white rapper or a trying-too-hard-to-be-hip feminine hygiene product. Which; if you know me at all, you know that I despise rap/hiphop and I’m hardly ever mistaken for a douchebag.
Regardless, it’s the nickname I’ve had for the past decade or so and I’ve gotten used to it; even becoming rather fond of it as evidenced by the fact that I use G Fresh or Matty G Fresh for pretty much every single one of my online usernames.
10 years ago back home in Indiana, I used to frequent this neighborhood bar where everybody knew my name although they never actually shouted it out when I walked into the room which; I’m not gonna lie, was a little disappointing.
On the corner of the bar was installed one of those touch screen video game machines where for a quarter you could totally get your Mah Jong on, or any number of other equally exciting games. The wait staff at said bar and a few regulars like myself called it the Crack Machine due to its addictive qualities and the speed with which you could blow through an entire roll of quarters if you weren’t paying attention.
One of the servers and I had a friendly rivalry going on a game called Crystal Balls which was similar to Tetris, but a lot more difficult because rather than shapes it involved colors and numbers which can be awfully hard to keep track of; especially if you’ve had a couple of beers to drink which is not an uncommon occurrence at bars, or so I’ve heard.
If you got one of the top ten scores you got to enter your name on the Crystal Balls Wall of Fame right next to Miss Cleo and Professor Trelawney (You down with HJP? Yeah, you know me!). Needless to say, we spent a metric buttload of quarters and wasted more hours than I care to count trying to outdo each other until eventually all ten of the top scores belonged to either him or me.
However, the first time I broke into the top ten at the beginning of our rivalry, I discovered that MATT GATES had too many letters to fit onto the Wall. Jokingly, my friend suggested that I use G FRESH because it fit the character limitations and also (besides the G for my last name) had absolutely nothing to do with who I am or what I like; qualities one always wants to have when entering a nickname into a video game.
For some reason the name just stuck and I started using it for e-mail addresses, usernames to make comments on blogs and dating website profiles, which let me tell you was not as popular with the ladies as I’d hoped it would be.
Eventually, most of my friends just started calling me G Fresh in person and even after moving from northeastern Indiana to Nashville, Tennessee, like a bad penny with a dumb nickname (Ooh, Broke-Ass Abe…awesome.), the moniker kept showing up and eventually I just accepted it.
At this point, I’m giving 50/50 odds that it will end up on my tombstone.
Who’s your favorite douchey white rapper?
How was your Thanksgiving? Canadian friends; how was your Thursday?