Nicknames

I've always wanted a wicked-cool nickname. Sadly, throughout my life I've never really had a good one (apart from frangelita, which is obviously ace).

My fellow schoolkids came up with nothing more imaginative than the most insulting variant of my first name (think the lead character in Mansfield Park) or, alternatively, some people seemed to think it was funny to call me after a large northern city which apparently rhymes with my full name. Then there was a brief period at college where I was known at Frank when we were doing that introduction thing and somebody got a bit confused. Everybody thought it was hilarious.

But nothing much else. Until now.

I've had a bit of a hacking cough recently - so dramatic, in fact, that my editor, with whom I have exchanged approximately eight words, twice asked solicitously after my well-being. Anyway, last week I was working late shifts and after a certain time the office goes into some weird twilight zone and any noise, particularly the coughing up of one's guts, echoes sinisterly throughout the empty press hall.

One of the reporters left on Thursday and I joined a bunch of hardened drinkers (come on, we're journos) to bid her farewell. When I arrived I was greeted by two men I had never seen before me who addressed me by name (I still find this disconcerting).

Apparently they're on sports desk. Anyway, they commented on my cough. Said they were thinking about bringing me in some cough syrup. Then, bizarrely, told me they liked my hair.

Yeah, said one of them, we call you Coppertop with a Cough.


It's got a ring to it. I kind of like it.

Anyway, that ended up being a long late night followed by approximately four and a half hours sleep before I went off to work on Good Friday. I seem to have signed myself up forEaster Monday too. After going out last night as well and somehow inviting Curtains and E back for another couple of drinks, I am feeling quite badly sleep-deprived. I'm sure it will pass. Nice, easy day today.

More on that story later.