The other day I was talking to a friend about Bob. This is how the conversation went:</p><p>Me: “So, did you hear what happened to Bob?”</p><p>Friend: “Crazy Bob?”</p><p>Me: “No. Crazy Bob is in jail.”</p><p>Friend: “When did Crazy Bob get in jail?”</p><p>Me: “Last month.”</p><p>Friend: “Wow. I had no idea. Poor Crazy Bob.”</p><p>Me: “Yeah. Anyway, back to Bob...”</p><p>Friend: “Are we talking about Burger Bob or Diving Bob?”</p><p>Me: “Neither! We’re talking about Bob! The one that fishes!”</p><p>Friend: “Ohhhh, Bobber Bob! What about him?”</p><p>As you can plainly see, I goofed up from the start. I know better than to refer to anyone down here by their proper name. It’s just too confusing. We were all given names at birth and then we moved here and got our official Keys Names.</p><p>For instance, my husband’s Keys name is Captain Jack. Or, my daughter’s friends all call him Captain Underpants. (If you’re one of our neighbors or friends or, if you’ve read any of my previous articles, you’d understand.) </p><p>Indian Princess is an organization for fathers to be with their daughters, similar to Girl Scouts. Within this group, my husband’s name is Captain Rum-A-Muck. Sadly, he’s really proud of all his Keys names. </p><p>But, it is kind of fun. Everywhere else, you’d have to refer to people by their official first names or by their first and last names. Sometimes you’d even have to add their titles to their names when you’d introduce them. For instance, “I’d like you to meet Dr. Fredrick Ramsey, III.” </p><p>Wow. Here in the Keys, we’d wrap that up with a quick “Yo! Dr. Fred” or “What’s up Doc?” Or, “Meet my bud, Doc the Turd.” And, if you’d happen to go diving with Dr. Fred, or even see Dr. Fred underwater at some point in your life, you’d refer to him as Diving Doc forever after. </p><p>So what if he went to school for 50 years of his life to earn his professional title? Respecting higher education is pretty much a wash down here. Heck, if you are known to cook the perfect hamburger, you’ve automatically been graced with the title, Dr. Burgermeister — without going to school a day in your life.</p><p>Doctors aren’t the only professionals with nicknames here. Don’t get me started on fishermen or divers. For instance, Diver Dan... come on. His mother did not name him Diver Dan at the hospital. And my bud who loves to fish, Hooker Harriette, can never move to Las Vegas with her Keys nickname. </p><p>Harriette got off lucky though. Fishy names are probably the most popular. Turtle, Amber Jack, Cuda, etc. The list goes on and on. One thing for sure, Crabby Dick should never hang out with Hooker Harriette. The rumors would fly. </p><p>Initials are always popular here. My bud, MLM has a cat named KeysBob. I’m often called JB which is short for Jana Banana. Mr. T would have fit in perfectly down here. Heck, at my daughter’s school, the vice-principal is called Miss K. </p><p>Watch out if you have a distinguishing physical feature and you live in the Keys. Don’t ask me about a buddy named Vagina Lips. And Big Toe Joe should never have moved here. If he lived in Texas and wore cowboy boots, no one would have ever known about his ginormous toe.</p><p>Joe’s toe brings up a good point. Living in the Keys is sort of like being in an Indian tribe. You can get a name that reflects your personality (or drinking habits, like my husband’s, as mentioned above.) We know a St. Pete, because he’s almost too kind. Or Fart Face and Tooter were named for obvious reasons. And, finally, never ever invite Barfin’ Billy on a boat ride. </p><p>See how much you already know about these people? That’s great thing about living in the Keys. The minute you’re introduced to someone, you feel like you’re part of the family. The Key’s family.</p><p>Jana Vandelaar is a freelance writer, dive instructor and flight attendant. She has been enjoying life in Key Largo for over 17 years with a fantastic family, loving friends and smelly pups. Her column on life in the Keys will appear occasionally.