DannyBoyinExile

I guess the name Danny isn’t very cool, because as soon as I came to prison, people started trying to give me a nickname. Not just me – most inmates tend to acquire an alias, for no reason whatsever. I can understand someone wanting anonymity if they are up to no good – but I also understand that it will only be a matter of days before you are known by your nickname, so there will be nothing secret about it. If someone told the rank that “DannyBoy” did this or that, they would instantly know who I was, and come looking for me.
I laugh at some of the outlandish nicknames I’ve heard around here. Food Loaf, for the guy who prefers to stay on food loaf restriction, rather than eating regular meals. Do-Some-Things is the guy who is always up to something – and usually something nefarious. Miracle? (It’s a miracle he hasn’t been killed yet!) I can’t remember how many people I’ve known named Oso (bear), Flaco (skinny/slim), 5th Ward, Country, or Cowboy. I once knew a fat, baldheaded homosexual, who was missing about half the teeth in his mouth. His nickname was… Luscious! (WTF?!) I’ll never use the word again, because it clearly doesn’t mean what I thought it did.
When I first came to prison, I refused to be called by anything other than my name. I was Danny, or Matthews, and anyone who called me otherwise would just be ignored.
Until one day, a guy I didn’t even like started calling me DannyBoy. It wasn’t a big deal to me, because it’s practically my name – even if it was embellished a little. It caught on like wildfire, and before I knew it, more people knew of DannyBoy than Danny! I’ve even been to Classification and had the Warden call me DannyBoy, so it’s a good thing it wasn’t an alias to hide any wrongdoings. I’m just me.
I still feel far more comfortable calling myself by my real name than anything else, but sometimes when you find yourself in Rome, you have to do as the Romans do. So says DannyBoy.