• Source: /r/AskReddit
  • Posted: Aug 16 2011
  • Author: 6point8
  • Topic: So my wife just agreed to name our unborn son Sterling Archer.

> It works for both a GIRL and a BOY. That’s double the goodness of your ordinary name! > > Imagine this, your son - Streetlamp Le Moose - classy motherfucker. He turns 5, starts going to Preschool - the fisrt day, his teacher is doing roll call and gets to his name. She looks up, creases her brow and reads again, sure that she made a mistake. ‘Streetlamp?’ She says. Her brow still furrowed, looking around at the collection of eager kids cross-legged at her feet. > > Enter, Mr Streetlamp, is he wearing a Sesame Street shirt? No. He’s wearing a shirt, tie too - he looks at the teacher and says ‘Yes Miss?’ - classy. The whole class is looking at him now, admiring his fashion sense, his awesome name, his doubley good name. The rest of them - their name is only good for a girl or a boy, but for both - this kid surely must be a God. > > ‘Oh my, Mr Streetlamp,’ the teacher will say, ‘you sure have a unique name.’ > > ‘I’m a unique guy,’ he’ll reply. Turning to the cutie decked out in her floral dress next to him and shooting her a wink. > > Fade to black. > > Third grade, Streetlamp starts making ripples through his Primary School. People have a problem? Streetlamp will sort them. Lost a ball? Streetlamp has got your back. Skip rope gone missing? Streetlamp got you. > > He’s earning the admiration and respect of those in the years above him, and soon enough, he’s becoming this local legend - Streetlamp, the man that gets things done. His unique, amazing name has pushed him to be a unique, amazing gentleman - kind hearted - check, brave - check, athletic - check, intelligent - you betcha. > > His reputation precedes him, the kids graduating that year are going to go to their middle schools, and the legend of Streetlamp Le Moose will spread further. The kid that’s unstoppable. The classy motherfucker that does what’s right, and does it well. > > Seventh Grade - Time to start middle school. Hormones start to kick in. By now, there are some overdeveloped dickish guys teasing him. You know what Streetlamp does? He doesn’t fight back, he doesn’t wage warfare against them, he just grins. Every night he runs, every night he works out - his muscles are starting to develop - his facial structure, impeccable. He’s beautiful. > > The bullies aren’t caring though - they’re just continuously ripping into him, day after day. So what do you do when you’re pushed, repeatedly, Snap? Not Streetlamp. Streetlamp waits until they’re seperated from one another, approaching and befriending each one on their own. Gets to know them, finds out that the bigger one - George, he’s secretly in love with this girl, and been trying to rip on Streetlamp because he’s a baller and the girls love him, trying to prove that he’s more attractive by bullying him. > > So Streetlamp, the good guy that he is, goes and approaches the girl, starts talking George up, telling her what a great guy he is really. Soon enough, they’re going on a date - the kind of cheesy date that 7th graders go on, that trip to the movies where they gingerly hold hands half way into the movie and she blushes and his breath increases in pace, nerves racing, heart pumping with such ferocity. > > Fastforward, Streetlamp the Freshman (Fresh Man) - His rep has spread through the HighSchool already. You remember that cute girl in the floral from Preschool? Yeah, she goes to the same one. She’s developed pretty well - looking beautiful. First day of class, the teacher’s doing roll call, she looks at the list, furrows her brow - looking up. She lowers her head, reading again. ‘Streetlamp… Le Moose?’ she says. > > He looks up from the discussion he’s having with one of the buddies that he’d made through George - talking about cologne or something like that - ‘Yes Miss,’ he says. He looks around, catching the eye of floral girl - winking at her once again. > > She giggles - blushing. > > They start dating a few weeks later, her names Abigail, it’s a good relationship - he treats her well, not needy - not clingy, but just enough attention for her to feel loved, for her to spread the rumour that he’s an amazing boyfriend, and an amazing guy. > > Junior Year, Streetlamp and Abigail have broken up - it was mutual. It wasn’t because there were problems in the relationship, Floral girl just started thinking that they should see other people, she didn’t feel like she was good enough for him. He always treated her so well, and she’d never dated a guy before. It was feeling too serious, and she didn’t want to get serious so soon. > > Streetlamp? He didn’t mind, he made sure they remained friends - they still eat lunch together most days, take the same classes and talk a lot. He started playing football, Quarterback - Coach is saying that his AP Calc and Physics classes are really helping him with his arch, and his AP classes in Ancient history have made him a master strategist. > > Nobody quite knows how he does it - 8 AP classes in Junior year while being the Quarterback of the #7 ranked team in the country. He practices incessantly, studies even more. It should take it’s toll on his health, but it doesn’t, he stays on top of it all. > > By now, the whole school knows who he is, and there’s a non stop stream of Sophmores and Juniors approaching him in the hallway asking if he wants to come to this or that party. He’s the sweetheart of the school, and the sort of boy that every girl in the school fantasises about. George? Linebacker on the team, best buddies by now - him and the girl dated for a while but it’s well and truly over now. > > Enter Friday night; House party in the suburbs. Streetlamp rocks up with buddies late, 10 or 11 at night. Everyone is well and truly drunk. A huge cheer erupts when they walk in - he’s handed a beer as soon as he enters. He offers it to George - he doesn’t drink, his mind is his best instrument, he doesn’t want to damage it. > > Senior’s hanging by the staircase, she’s wearing an olive miniskirt and one of those ripped tees. Her hard body, tightly encased. ‘Hi Streetlamp,’ she says. > > ‘Well Hi There.’ > > ‘You want to come upstairs with me?’ > > Fade to black.

Continued in comments…

  • WintryOPMEnglish
    2•1 year ago

    Continued, Part 3…

    Third year, last year of Pre-Law.

    Abigail and Streetlamp start dating. The Coach of the Cardinal’s didn’t like it to begin with. There was a lot of conflict - he thought that she was bad for him, that she was dangerous. The cropped spikey hair and leather she always wore - even in the dead of summer didn’t help Streetlamp’s case.

    It was a Tuesday night that the sparks truly flew. Streetlamp was sitting in Coach’s office, a combination of Mahogany and Red lush carpet (Coach had been given a raise after the BCS championship).

    ‘It isn’t acceptable Streetlamp. I can’t have my star athlete going around dating somebody like that. It isn’t just about you anymore. It’s about your career, it’s about the public perception, it’s about our fans and the teams that are scouting you - that want you. Is it really worth risking all of that for -’ he paused, a look of disgust on his face, ‘her?’

    ‘Quite frankly coach,’ he said, staring him straight in the eyes, ‘I couldn’t care less. I try to always do what’s right, and to always be honest, and that’s what I’m going to do now. Abigail is the girl that I care about, that I love, her appearance be damned. She is the single most kind, caring, intelligent and brilliant girl that I have ever met, and if you were to ask me to give up either her or football. Well, I’d have to have a long think about that.’

    ‘Boy, I’ve been where you are before. I’ve cared for, god damn - I’ve loved girls with more of me than I care to admit, but this is your future. This is the rest of your life. She isn’t the type that you marry. She’s the type that you fuck for a few years, spend your fortune on and then leaves you for your best buddy.’ He inhaled, tearing up a little bit, ‘I just don’t want to see you hurt by her Streetlamp.’

    ‘I understand Coach, but you have to understand me. I’ve known her for most of my life, I’ve trusted her with all that I am, and she hasn’t betrayed me. Sure, we have rough patches, we drift apart sometimes, but we always come back. We. Always. Come. Back. Football is one thing coach, but a life without the girl that I love - that’s something completely different.’

    They sat in silence for a little while. Coach staring at his desk and Streetlamp, at his lap.

    Streetlamp’s voice croaked as he started to speak again; ‘If you’re asking me to choose between football and the love of my life, you know the answer.’

    That season, they went undefeated again with Streetlamp starting every single game. His passing rating sat on 192.1 for the season, and the speculation surrounding his decision at the end of the year was making the news every single night.

    A lot of the pro teams have been flying out their coaches to talk to him. He’s not sure. He’s conflicted; ambivalent.

    It was late on a Friday that he decided to seek advice. He called his father; the rock of his life. The man that had always been there for him, loved and cared for him. The man that would give up everything for his son’s happiness.

    ‘Son,’ his father had said, ‘You’ve always loved Football, but you’ve always loved helping people too. I think that’s the quality that I most admire in you. You’re a special kid, the best son that a father can hope for, and one that I’m so very proud of.’ Streetlamp could hear his father crying now, ‘I don’t know what decision you’ll make, but I know you, and I know that whatever decision you come to is going to be the right one.’

    Draft day 2032.

    Streetlamp is paraded across the stage along with the rest of the speculated top draft picks. He wears a nice suit with a plain white shirt underneath and a crisp dark tie. Just looking at him, you can tell that behind those eyes lurks an incredible intellect.

    The introductory proceedings stretch on for half an hour, but finally, they’re backstage again. Streetlamp sighs, his nerves holding his chest in a vice.

    ‘It’s going to be fine honey.’ She says, hugging him tight to her chest.

    ‘I know. It’s just. Wow.’

    ‘Who would’ve thought, hey?’

    ‘Who would’ve thought.’

    ‘I always knew, I read a story about you once,’ said his Father, joking to relieve the tension. ‘Best god damn story ever written.’

    Streetlamp laughed. ‘That’s ridiculous.’

    ‘Loosened you up though, didn’t it?’

    ‘Sure did.’

    There was a short silence. Streetlamp rubbed his eyes.

    ‘Did you get much sleep last night?’ His mother asked.

    ‘Not enough.’ Streetlamp said, ‘the nerves, y’no.’

    ‘First pick, I’m telling you son. LA Jaguars - your new home.’

    The introductions are done - the elderly Peyton Manning stands in front of thousands of fans - millions watching live at home.

    ‘The first pick of the 2032 draft goes to the LA Jaguars.’

    A tense minute passes. Streetlamp watches the action on a small tv in the backstage area - a camera up in his face.

    Another minute passes. He starts to panic. Abigail clutches his hand. Staring at her, he can’t help but smile. Over the last year, she’d traded her cropped hair for a longer style, and her leather in for sweaters and blouses. She never did say why, but he suspected that word got back to her about his confrontation with the coach. He’d asked, but she just denied.

    ‘… and with the first pick of the 2032 NFL draft, the LA Jaguars pick… Streetlamp Le Moose!’

    His jaw drops, exhaling deeply, his eyes wide open. His mother and father are jumping up and down screaming, Abigail is clutching on to him tighter than ever. ‘You did it,’ she says, ‘you did it.’

    The day after, the contract had been drawn up, including the special circumstances. The news story broke that night ‘Streetlamp Le Moose - Signed for $47 million over 7 years. Reported to also be attending Law School as well.’

    He’s taking the degree externally.

    He’d told his father the day before the signing. He’d been accepted to Yale.