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A Tiger LiLi By Any Other Name

posted by Liam Reed at 7:26 am.

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A few days ago I changed my name on Facebook from Liam Reed to William Reed. By some it was considered a bold move. I was willing to give up my “original and creative” name for the common good, the common good being that the world simply needs more Williams. We’re a dying breed, you see. I actually received a letter from the World Organization of Williams (WOW) telling me that if I didn’t revert back to my birth name, all privileges that come with being a William would be revoked, up to and including the one where we receive a free spot of tea at any cafe in the world at 2 PM on Thursdays. I bet you didn’t know that about us, huh?

The reason I reverted back to William is because I was applying for jobs and I always write William right there at the top. My bank accounts are all in William and you’d be surprised at how often banks get confused when they see a name other than William on the paycheck, names such as Bill, Billy, Liam, LiLi, Will, Wilsophene, Wilhelm, and Theo. It confuses them. It makes them angry.

At one place where I work, I go by Will. At the other, I go by Liam. For professors, instead of making a big deal when they first call roll at the beginning of class and stating, “Actually, it’s Liam,” I just let it roll with William. When you say Liam out loud, a great deal of people either hear “Leo” or ask you to spell out Liam because they have never heard a name quite as exotic as that one.

Liam is a very Gaelic name. I first remember hearing this name when I was probably around 8 or 9 years old. I was with my family at an Irish festival celebrating my heritage, throwing back pints of Guinness and getting drunk off me arse with me lads. It was quite raucous. And that’s when my dad came up to me with this golden keychain he had bought for me. It was a golden medallion and at the top, in green lettering, the name William was printed. In the center was an emerald shamrock, and right below that, the Gaelic counterpart to William, Liam.

For the duration of the festival, I was Liam. I was very proud of this name because I liked it a helluva lot more than Billy, which is the name people actually decided to call me. There was a very defiant move in the 6th grade when I told everyone to call me Bill, which at the time I thought was a much more grownup name than Billy. While this may be true, whenever I hear the name Bill now, I think of an old man with a beer belly in a wife beater and pit stains getting drunk off Natty Light.

Throughout the following years my dad would refer to me as one of several names. If we were at the house and he needed something, it was Billy. If he was proud of me, it was William. If we were in the vicinity of anything Irish and/or international, it would be Liam. You know, I’m not sure that’s true. I just know that it came and went and it was a name that I learned to answer to.

However, he was the only one, so when it came to needing a secret identity to protect myself from old homo perverts on the internetz, I knew exactly what I had to do. In the earth realm, I was little Billy Reed, the kid with chipmunk cheeks who came home after school and watched Trading Spaces while eating a bag of popcorn by himself, but online, I was strong defiant somewhat Irish Liam, the kid who wanted to get laid more than anything. The kid who didn’t want random perverted strangers knowing his actual name and waiting for him outside of his high school, prime for the raping.

I had never met someone I knew only through the internet until my sophomore year of high school. His name was Tom. I thought he was badass because before I ever met him I saw him on ABC7 News when they interviewed him for creating a Gay/Straight Alliance at his high school. We had been talking for a while and I had thought he was hella cute (yes, hella) and I felt comfortable letting him know which high school I attended so he could come see me perform in my school’s fine rendition of School House Rock Live! The exclamation point is part of the title. Please don’t assume any amount of exclamation. I mean it’s a fun show, but it ain’t that fun.

Tom knew me only as Liam. I had been Liam for months and here he was with a friend of his seeing my show. After the show we went to a Baker’s Square and he introduced me to said friend as Liam. It was then that I realized I would have to roll with this Liam thing much more permanently than a simple alias.

Fun fact: it was at this Baker’s Square meeting that I had found out my recent ex, the one I lost my virginity to, my flower, my rose petal, the boy who told me I too was his first, well, it turned out he was in porn. I mean, it happens, I guess, but it kinda pissed me off.

I’m not bitter.

Moving on, Tom and I actually became really good friends. He was two years older than me so when he left to go to school at DePaul I was introduced to the whole college scene. I learned a lot from Tom about gay people. I learned that a lot of college gay groups actually kind of creep me the hell out and that gay people like to cling to each other. It’s understandable I guess, especially when it comes to the party scene. I love my straight friends, I would even venture to have a 3-way with a good few of them, but that’s exactly the thing, when it comes to going out and partying, I like knowing that I could end up getting laid, and by laid I simply mean getting a little liquid courage in me and making out with some random guy I met. That’s hard to come by at Frat parties.

Ok, well that’s a lie, but there’s a lot less shunning at parties that have predominantly gay guests. Gay parties, I have noticed, happen to be a lot more open with sexuality. One moment I’ll be making out with Alexis, the next some dude, and then the next moment Alexis is running around with her top off. And there’s no judgment, which is nice. When I see her tits I may run away out of shock and fright, but it’s not meant negatively. Honest.

Enough of these tangents! Through Tom, I was introduced to many people, usually gay, and I was always introduced as Liam. A few of these people I ended up becoming good friends with, so a name change back to Billy was clearly too late. My personality actually grew with the name Liam and I began to feel I no longer resembled a Bill, but rather a Liam. Name is very important.

With professors, I’m William. It’s a very intelligent-sounding name. With my boys, I’m Liam, it fits my non-academic sex-obsessed happy personality. At the retail store in Champaign, I’m Will, which sounds a lot more frat-ish than Liam but is still a comfortable not incredibly academic name. I use Guillermo when I pretend I’m Puerto Rican, which happens at least once a month. I’m just light-skinned!

I like having several names. It’s not that I’m lying or trying to convey multiple personalities, it’s that each name highlights either certain personality traits or certain moments in my own history. If someone refers to me as Bill, it’s easy to assume that they’ve known me for quite a few years. If they call me Liam, they’re probably a fag. And if they call me Buttons, well …. well that’s when it gets into my very dirty past, and we’re not going to touch on that one.

….

P.S.

I promise to start writing about people other than myself soon. A friend of mine recently got a piercing on his dick, so look forward to that, amigo.

Liam Reed: 1987 model, runs fairly well, few dents, starts in cold weather, no baggage, loves flea markets and canned soup. Send all hate mail, love mail, and sexual advances to withtongue@gmail.com