It's the norm to over-share. My friends and I are guilty of this. We divulge every serious and petty aspect of our dating lives, but there's one detail that we are shy about sharing: the names of those we are speaking about. We hold back our excitement, manage our expectations, and heed with caution—all by referring to those we're seeing as anything but their given names. As soon as we begin to tell a story about a date we had, or someone we've just met the first question is: "Wait, what should we call him?"
Sometimes the nicknames are creative: The Crusader (super religious with a wild side in the bed), HGB (short for Hot Gym Boy), and The Meatball (round, stubby, and Italian). One woman told me, "one of my favorites is the guy my friend is dating now—he was formerly a bit of a slut, so we call him TRW, for The Repentant Whore." Then there's the self-explanatory: Hot Hat-Wearing Balding Guy, or Formerly Fat Chris. And the more generic ones that still serve their purpose: The Writer, The Brit, The Professor, SoCal. As time goes by, and there's more than one guy who could be described by a particular nickname, we feel the need to affix new descriptors for clarification purposes (i.e. The Brit Without the Maniacal Laugh). Some even have formulas for nicknames, such as taking their real first name and adding the bar or location in which they met as their last name.