At least twice a week, my roommate Jason and I will arrive home at the same time and share a drunk giggly recap of the night before we go to bed, or a croaky conversation about it the next morning.
He has a lot of trouble keeping track of my friends’ names, especially if he’s never met them. And I’ve only truly dated 2 boys since I’ve lived with him, but there have been several crushes, pursuitors, or one-date-wonders. And whether I am happy, angry, sad, or in love, he never has any idea who I am talking about. Unless, of course, he gives them a nickname.
You are not officially a man in my life until Jason figures out what to call you. Here are some of my favorite nicknames that Jason has thrown out over the years:
* Harvey Danger
* Revenge of the Nerd
* WrappedAroundYourFinger
* Found Guy
* Oh Yeah, Mike! – The one he set me up with and actually knows
* The Mexican – clearly not Mexican; I have no idea where this came from and neither does Jason
* “LET’S HANG” – named for an actual text the dude sent me at 3 in the morning
* Mr. Opportunity – what he’s called my ex since he got fired from Imo’s
* The, uh… [points to eyebrows]
* Straight Doogie
* Fat Paul Rudd
I love Jason. And yes, he has a nickname for Justin. No, I will not tell you which one.
To reiterate, I have NOT dated or even liked all these dudes, no matter what Frank and Ray tell you.
Secretly Stephie 
In my head, I’ve always referred to Mr. Opportunity as “Captain Ambitious.”
Nice. I still love when you said, “Who? Oh ew, the d-bag with the visor?”