In my first job, when I was 19, I worked as a graphic artist in a printer's. There were a few of us kids working in various departments, and one Friday after work we took over the plant and printed up a bunch of fake business cards. Mine was, I thought at the time, super-clever.
Devin Doyle.
Gynaecologist.
At your cervix.
Hilarious, right? Anyway, I had about 500 of them, and one glorious weekend I passed all of them out. In pubs, on buses... okay, just pubs and buses. (An Irish social life). And then forgot about them.
So ten years later, I'm dating this new lady, I'm 29, she's in her early 30s, and I'm nervously meeting her friends. "Everyone, this is Devin." "Hi, everyone." (That was me, trying to seem cool, and sophisticated, and interesting.) And one of my date's friends peers at me.
"Devin?" he says.
"Devin Doyle?"
"THE Devin Doyle?"
"Uh... I guess... yeah."
"I have one of your business cards. I found it on a bus..."
Devin Doyle.
Gynaecologist.
At your cervix.
Hilarious, right? Anyway, I had about 500 of them, and one glorious weekend I passed all of them out. In pubs, on buses... okay, just pubs and buses. (An Irish social life). And then forgot about them.
So ten years later, I'm dating this new lady, I'm 29, she's in her early 30s, and I'm nervously meeting her friends. "Everyone, this is Devin." "Hi, everyone." (That was me, trying to seem cool, and sophisticated, and interesting.) And one of my date's friends peers at me.
"Devin?" he says.
"Devin Doyle?"
"THE Devin Doyle?"
"Uh... I guess... yeah."
"I have one of your business cards. I found it on a bus..."
