... oh alright then.
Hello there. My name is Teeps. Well, that's not my real name obviously. My real name is Kev, but 'Kev' is a far less interesting name to pick up girls with, so I opt for Teeps when I meet new people. It has an air of mystery about it and is usually the opening to a longer conversation. An ice breaker if you will. So in the spirit of getting to know each other. I shall tell you the story of how i came to be known as 'Teeps'.
It is the year 2000. The world has not ended despite reassurances to the contrary and teleportation still hasn't been invented (seriously, scientists need to start pulling their fingers out on this one). A young, impressionable 18 year old boy has passed his A'levels and managed to secure his spot at the prestigious University College of St Martins in Lancaster. He packs his life into two bin bags and travels North, for about 35 miles, ready and eager to move into his new home, a tiny little room on the ground floor of what is essentially a 3 story chalet.
Now a few days pass. He meets some of the other people he's sharing his building with, makes new friends and all that jazz. Alcohol is consumed. As are Super Noodles. And, seeing as we are 'freshers' and it is 'freshers week', a beach party is attended.
Now by this point everyone pretty much everyone in the group had acquired a nickname. For example Chris Hobbs was widely known as, well, Hobbsy (see what we did there?). Then there was Manc (bet you cant guess which city he came from? That's right, Oldham, obviously!). Gramps was called Gramps because, well, he was the oldest by about 2 years. And then, and we were all quite proud of this one, there was Charity.
Charity was the stereotypical student type of the group. When you are told to think of a student. It would be Charity that popped up into your head. Tall, middle-class, always 'relaxed' and always seems to be on the cusp of saying something profound, but never actually saying it. That was Charity. His real name was Chris but since about day 3, when we had all ventured out to find things to clutter our rooms with and wear as fancy dress at one of the many Freshers week parties, he had become know as Charity, or Chaz. He had an uncanny and somewhat unnatural ability to be drawn into charity shops and sniff out some of the best ever bargains know to man. I swear by the end of only the first year he had spent so much money in Scope he must actually own Stephen Hawkings.
And then there was Kev. Me. Nicknameless. An outcast. Everyone else was relishing in the new found powers that having a nickname gave them. The ability to make small talk and chat up girls. As soon as we stepped foot into the giant hall housing the beach party they were off in all directions. Introducing themselves, explaining their nicknames and telling amusing anecdotes that having them had brought. I saw them and thought to myself "you can do this Kev! You may not have a clever nickname but you don't need one to be cool. people will still talk to you. you can still use your wit and charm you can still..."
"Hello there" said a voice whilst I was lost in my own internal monologue. I turned to see short dark haired girl in a grass skirt and bikini top sipping from a bottle of Smirnoff Ice . She was with one of the girls that Manc was currently chatting with and had decided that she would take the opportunity to talk to Manc's more attractive friend... or at least that's what i kept telling myself. This was my chance to shine. To prove that I didn't need a nickname to chat to girls. That I could be confident and cool without a label. I turned and smiled at her. Extended my hand and said "Hey, nice to meet you I'm Kev and you are gorgeous?"
Now the following possibly didn't actually happen but for illustrative purposes I'll swear to you that it did. As soon as I reached the climax of my clever and witty and clearly well thought out chat up line the room went quiet. The loud thumping music ceased mid track, and every voice in the room fell silent as the faces turned to look at me and Smirnoff Ice Girl. She looked me in the eye and I could see what she was thinking.
"Kev? your name is Kev? You mean you don't have an interesting and fun nickname to discuss? You are a fraud. You are hanging around with all these fun, nicknamed, interesting people pretending to be one of them when all along you are nothing. A normal. A, a, a KEV!"
She didn't say any of that of course but she was thinking it. I could tell. I could tell in the way she shook my hand and said "Hi" and wandered off for another Smirnoff Ice.
Downhearted and rejected I realised I was a no one without a nickname. Destined to be someone sat in the background, unnoticed. I decided to leave, there was no point me being there, not whilst I was 'Kev'. I turned to go and made my way through the double doors back into the cool night air. I didn't expect what happened next.
Suddenly the dulcet tones of a drunken Yorkshire man rang out across the courtyard. I had stumbled outside at the precise moment that Hobbsy had picked to start a drunken chant...
"He's got a tinnnnnnnnnyyy penis, he's got a tinnnnnnnnyyyy penis, walking along, singing a song walking in a tiny wonderland!"Suddenly more people were joining in. Singing a song about a generic man with a small penis. At least that's what I thought. As my eyes adjusted to the gloom I couldn't help but notice that all eyes were trained on me, the man who had just chosen that very moment to walk through the doors. The man they had picked to chant the tiny penis song to. I was horror stricken. This night had gone from bad to worse. Not only was I a no one without a nickname, I was now a no one without a nickname and a tiny penis to boot.
"Get your dick out for lads Tiny Penis!" said a sharp wannabe Mancunian voice from behind me. Great...Manc had decided to follow behind me with his new lady friend and join in the mockery. "Haha, go on TP" said another, more 'relaxed' middle-class voice as charity appeared from behind a bush, fastening his flies. Could this night not get any worse all it needed was for a grumpy, old southern voice to...
..."Teeny 'ft' Peeney has a tiny 'ft' penis. Teenie 'ft' teepsy" said a grumpy, old southerner, not only mocking my manhood but managing to mock my strong Boltonian accent simultaneously. Great. The tri-fector of humiliation was complete. All i wanted was to go home and cry myself to sleep.
But then suddenly something magical happened. From nowhere a voice that only minutes earlier had shunned me in order to quest for another drink arose out of the gloom. A voice that turned the night on it's head and created the person I was destined to become. A voice that said just two words.
"Who's Teeps?"
Everyone stopped and looked at me in anticipation as I slowly turned to the voice that had said those two unforgettable words. I looked into her eyes and as she looked into mine i said the sentence that would form the foundations of my entire future.
"I'm Teeps! Do you Fancy another Smirnoff Ice?"
Together we turned and walked straight back into the party. A party I had left as 'Kev', but returned to as 'Teeps'.
And that is why I am called Teeps. Now it's only fair that you introduce yourself now in the comments. go on. Don't be shy. Cant be worse than being know as Mr Tiny Penis for the rest of your life can it now?
xxxx
