The regular Thursday night meeting of the Acme Pizza and Science Society around the big circular table at Pizza Eddie’s. Al comes in, hair afire and ready to bite the heads off tenpenny nails. “This is the last straw!” <flings down yet another astronomy magazine>. “Look at this!”

I pick up the issue. “Looks like the lead article’s about the Psyche mission to the Psyche asteroid. You got a problem with that?”

“Nah, that’s just fine, exciting even. Look at the address label.”

“Ah, I see your objection. Instead of your first name it says ‘A. I.’ like those are your initials. Are they?”

“No. Never had a middle initial until the Navy gave me ‘N‘ for ‘No middle initial‘ and I dropped that soon as I got out.”

“So where’d they get the ‘I’?”

“That’s what chafes my cheeks, Vinnie, people messing with my name. All this stuff going on these days about Artificial Intelligence which everybody calls ‘AI’ which looks too flippin’ much like Al. People have been ribbing me about it since ChatGPT hit the street. They come in here asking me for virtual coffee or wanting to know about my ALgorithms. One guy claimed I parked a driverless coffee machine back of the kitchen. But it’s not just jokes. I get calls asking for programming help with languages I never heard of. My checks have my name as Al but the bank lady gives me grief because I don’t sign them with A. I.”

“You’ve got a good point there. When someone chooses a name, that name’s important to them. I know whole families where everyone has a ‘go‑by‘ name. First class I ever taught, I opened by calling the role so I could tie names to faces. I started out calling out first names but quickly learned that most of the men and half the women went by middle names — this was in the South where that’s common but still. Anyway, I called first and middle names until I got to this one kid. He’d gone through three years of college going by ‘C-M’ until I blew his cover by asking which student was named Clyde and it was him. I don’t think he ever forgave me.”

“I know the feeling, Cathleen. None of the teachers could handle my full name. This magazine’s stupid spell‑checker musta corrected me wrong. I want a new name that doesn’t get messed up.”

“Al’s not your full name?”

“No, it’s Aloysius which I don’t like. No-one can spell it, or say it right if they see it written out. I got named after my Mom’s favorite uncle before I could vote against it. I’ve been going by Al ever since I knew better.”

“We need to figure you a new name that looks different but sounds almost the same so you’ll recognize it when we holler at you, right?”

“That’s about it, Vinnie. Whaddaya got?”

“A negative to begin with. We can rule out Hal, the killer computer in the 2001 movie. Don’t want to see our physicist here walk up for a strawberry scone and get ‘I’m afraid I can’t do that, Sy.’ Haw!”

“How about Sal?”

Eddie waves it away. “My Uncle Salvatore’s already got that. One’s enough.”

I read off Old Reliable’s screen. “Baal was a god worshipped by some of the Old Testament enemy tribes, eventually turned into Beelzebub. That won’t do. And ‘mal‘ means ‘bad‘ in Spanish.”

Resident chemist Susan giggles. “I don’t suppose you’d be happy if I greeted you with a cheery, ‘Hey, Gal‘. Oh, wait, I’ve got a Chemistry thing for us. ‘Cal‘ is the standard abbreviation for ‘calorie,’ one of the old‑time measures of heat energy before everybody settled on the joule. What do you think of ‘Cal‘? Hot and cool and rugged enough for you?”

“Hmm… I like it. ‘Cal’s Coffee‘ even has that market‑winner k’‑kuh sound like Krispy Kreme and Captain Crunch and Crispy Critters. It’s official — from now on, Cal is my official go‑by name. Thanks, Susan.”

She grins. “First time I’ve named an adult. Hi, Cal.”
 ”Hi, Cal.”
  ”Hi, Cal.”
   ”Hi, Cal. Now about that magazine article…”

~~ Rich Olcott