When Your Nickname Is “Miami”

One of my greatest anxieties is when people call me Dave. Dave is a common enough nickname for David, but it is one step removed from being known as Miami Dave. To be given this nickname sends shivers down my spine. So of course somehow when I lived in other cities people called me, “Miami Dave”.

I remedied the situation by moving back to Miami. People are unlikely to call you by your place of origin when you are residing in that place. Minnesota Fats was just known as Fats when he was in Minneapolis. But still I find myself awake at night wondering if I am in fact Miami Dave. Who is this Miami Dave and why do I fear becoming him so much?

  • He has a mustache, that’s for sure, and a hairstyle that could be confused by some for a mullet.
  • He lives on a boat that is not sea worthy.
  • The boat has a security system, made up of rusty Budweiser beer cans.
  • Has one of those televisions that gets no reception except when Barney Miller is on.
  • Likes to refer to his home county as Miami-Dave county.
  • There is a faded tattoo on his forearm. He is not certain what the tattoo is of. Perhaps it is just melanoma.
  • Sings along to Jimmy Buffet songs especially when Jimmy Buffet is not what is playing on his am/fm radio.
  • He refrains from hard drugs. Cocaine is not hard. It is soft and powdery.
  • Swears that bicycle is his. Just because it looks like your eight year old kid’s that went missing outside the same 7-11 where he was pouring adult beverages into his cherry slurpee, does not mean Miami Dave did not purchase it legally.
  • Claims he saw the infamous Doors concert at Dinner Key Auditorium where Jim Morrison flashed his penis in 1969 in spite of Miami Dave being born nine years later.
  • Was once a pro golfer.
  • Enjoys sunsets and walks in the park.
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David Rolland

David Rolland edits the Jitney blog. He is the author of the novels Yo-Yo & The End of the Century.