Misnomers and Mr. Nomers

So, several weeks ago I met the guy who owns our building. Being a suitably affable marketing guy (who never wears a suit), I amiably chatted with him. His name is Peter M., a genial and talented Captain of Modern Industry. I discovered we went to the same college, etc.

Turns out he's a trustee of the college. I'm not. It may have something to do with the variance in our levels of alumni donations over the years. I'm just guessing.

Peter comes down to our floor to visit fairly frequently.

I notice he's been calling me Peter.

At first I thought I heard wrong, but, no, he says, "Hi, Peter."

Trouble is, I've been replying, "Hi, Peter" in true Doppelganger Loyalist fashion.

I'm a J. Alfred Prufrock on this one. A wimp.

I couldn't bring myself, after several nominal misnomers (or mister nomers, if you prefer) to correct him.

I didn't know how to begin. Call me Pawlie (not Peter) Kowardnuts, if you must.

Ballet Daughter warned me: You'd better nip this in the bud. It'll only get worse.

Today I took action.

I told Shannon, Peter's assistant. And she told Peter. Brave, eh?

Peter came by later in the afternoon, rolling his eyes. We're good. however, he departed my "office" area saying, "See you later," noticeably but good-humoredly not saying my name.

If he only knew about Pawlie Kokonuts.

Whew.