What's your name?

How many names do you have? Until I was fifteen, no one ever contracted my first name. Then one of my pals shortened Gregor to Greg and it stuck within a small group of friends at secondary school. I didn't mind, feeling that the new handle rather suited the would-be motorcyclist with a developing penchant for punk and rock music.

At university, I was almost exclusively Greg. I didn't mind, feeling that the no-longer-new handle rather suited the motorcyclist / minivan driver / cyclist with a liking for rock music and a developing appreciation for thoughtful lyrics, who could now and again actually be seen with a girlfriend on his arm. At teacher training college, Gregor was back. I didn't mind, feeling that the full name rather suited the man with the world's dullest sports jacket, who resented the fact that the Moray House disco never played Status Quo,  who had a LRT season ticket but dreamed of buying a convertible when he qualified. The longer name was mature but not boring, a sort of moustache of the psyche. Since then, it's been mostly Gregor, though one of the girls who was briefly seen on my friend Brian's arm at university became my wife several years later. I'm still Greg to her family.

At high school from first year, my nickname was Big G because my first initial was G and I wasn't a big hardman. It was a postmodern-ironic nickname in the days before postmodern irony. I didn't mind. Having a postmodern nickname was better than having no nickname at all. Nicknames were great for 12 year old boys. They belonged to your peer group, making you part of an almost-secret society. All the fun of the masons without having to roll up the legs on recently-acquired long trousers.

Now, I know I'm in danger of becoming like Big Bang Theory legend Howard Wolowitz who turned every conversation round to space after his spell in the ISS, but I'm going to mention China again. Our guide on a trip to the Zhouzhuang Water Town introduced herself as Linda. A hotel receptionist had a badge with "Peter" on it. It also had his Chinese family name - Pan. Someone was having a laugh. I sometimes Skype with an interpreter called Brenda. Honestly, I'd be happy to use these people's given names. In solidarity, I've visited a website called Mandarintools and acquired a new name for myself. Move over Gregor, Greg and Big G. You can call me Shi Ge Rui from now on, if you find it easier to say.

Linda - not her real name, and they aren't real stairs either.