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So, I'm dealing with this kid, 19 years old. He's not merely gay, he's a complete screaming queen. Lisp, limp wrist, lilty voice, glided across the floor when he walked, wearing more Silly Bandz than the average tween girl. So flamey I feared the couch would catch fire.
So, he sashays into the interview room with me. I start by asking, "Your paperwork says your name is 'Charles.' Are you are a 'Charles,' 'Chuck,' 'Chas,' or something else?"
"Nibbles."
"What?"
"They call me Nibbles."
"Young man, I cannot call you Nibbles. Let's just stick with Charles."
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