“Hello. My name is Tim Boyle.”
That’s how none of my conversations ever start. They probably should start that way, but they don’t. I’m too awkward for that. Most of my conversations with strangers start with me judging them on a physical flaw. I’ll nod and hope I never have to see them again. I usually get my way.
Tim isn’t a bad first name. It’s not as great as Deacon, Lexington, Jackson, or something else that makes me sound like a gay biker. I’ve never been made fun of for my name. That’s a good thing. I’ve known people that have been. Any bit of cleverness has to come from my last name. I had a teacher call me Tim “Hard” Boyle “’d Egg.” It got a lot of laughs from the 6th grade class. I had a rough year.
There isn’t anything too heinous that could relate to my last name that would be plain offensive. I guess if I had been boiled alive that could offend me. At that point, why would I care? I survived being mixed in a giant black pot by cannibals. Everything after that is cake because they didn’t have the opportunity to turn me into cake.
Little known fact: Cannibals love cake!
I’m not positive about the meaning of either of my names. My mom told me that Timothy means “honoring God.” I used to live up to my name, but my interpretation of the name God is “being there for those in need.” There are about a dozen commercials with malnourished children and battered women who think that he needs to work on living up to his name as well.
From what I know about my last name, there is a city in Ireland called O’Boyle, or so I was told. I’ve never found any evidence to back it up. I had the opportunity to talk to three people from Ireland once and they had never heard of the city. Someone lied to me. But does it really matter where the name came from? It’s still mine and doesn’t change who I am. Unless it means “cocksucking ape” in Gaelic which I doubt it because there are few apes in Ireland.
Sometimes people share my name. Tim is pretty common of a name. There’s Tim Allen who had a hit sitcom with Home Improvement. There’s Timothy McVeigh who blew up a building with children in it. There’s that fiction writer Timothy who worked on The Bible. Tims have a reputation for being successful. We rarely fail. Ask Timothy Dalton. Oh wait you can’t because he’s too busy racing dune buggies in his giant mansion!
My last name is also shared. Susan Boyle unfortunately being the most famous. She’s that fat mess that was popular 2 years ago. Here’s a picture my friend made of me on her album cover:
Other people have the last name Boyle. Nobody that’s ever accomplished much. The owner of Columbia Sportswear shares my exact name. I tried to get discounts but they refused because he’s a jerk. That actually never happened. He still is a jerk though. He should share the wealth with his namesake. He hogs it all with his mother Gert. Now that’s a terrible name. It sounds like a type of growth on the bottom of a foot. Irish people aren’t good at much, especially giving out names.
Overall, I don’t mind my names. Eventually I plan on changing my name to Timo Theebole to fool people into thinking I am ethnic, thus getting hired faster or not at all, depending on the company policies. The beauty of it is that if you say it fast enough, it’s pronounced the same as Timothy Boyle, my birth certificate name. I could be crazy in doing that and by then there will be a huge backlash against affirmative action. Until then I’ll stick with the names I was given at birth.