All through my life, people have given me flack for my name. That’s why I mostly go by my surname, ‘Foss’. It’s short, easy to understand, pronounce…and I’m happy for people to call me that. If only my parents hadn’t forced me into it by calling me ‘Rudolph’. I’m a man of business, and it’s not fitting for one of my calibre. No one wants to associate with a man named Rudolph. No one will take a conveyancing solicitor seriously with a name like Rudolph. It’s especially unfortunate around the Christmas period, for reasons which should be abundantly clear. Everyone in my office wants me to wear the nose. They KNOW I hate the nose. Everyone knows. Don’t even get me started on the antlers.
And look, I see their point. I might be a conveyancing specialist with a long list of cases under my belt and a full list of satisfied clients, but I’ve never been great at learning to laugh at myself. There’s still time- I’m not over the hill yet- but sometimes I wonder if an official name change would be more appropriate. It’s just one of those things that you ponder, but getting around to it is infinitely harder. After all, I’ve lived with this name my whole life. The nicer classmates called me Dolph, which I grew to appreciate because I’ve always been fond of dolphins. The worst thing is, my parents can’t remember why they did it. I’ve asked so many times, and Mum and Dad always just look confused before admitting that they must’ve just thought it sounded good. Maybe the song wasn’t out then.
If it hadn’t been for the other successful conveyancer in my position, I might’ve quit my job and gone into children’s entertainment. Just think…a respectable Melbourne property conveyancing person named ‘Dorabella Moo’. It’s one of those few times when I’ve really appreciated my cursed title.