We used to get a lot of DJ’s coming in.  They’d buy a lot of stuff (at a discounted price) but they’d also require a lot of extra customer service.  Most DJ’s already had a substantial collection of essential discs for every occasion, so they’d come in looking for obscure requests.

I can’t remember the request in this story, but I do remember the DJ.  He went in to see Trevor at his store first, looking for this rare CD.

Trevor called me, and I did have it, so I set it aside.  Then Trevor asked the DJ’s name so I could hold it.  The only issue here was the DJ (a very nice guy actually) had a thick, unidentified accent.

“Can I get your first name?” Trevor asked.

“Beer,” the man seemingly answered.

Trevor must have blinked when he asked, “Sorry, what was that?”

“Beer!” came the answer.

Trevor responded, “Really, your name is Beer?  That’s cool!”

“No no no.  BEER!  B-I-L-L.  Beer!”

“OH!  Bill.  Sorry.  Got it,” Trevor answered, glad to have gotten to the bottom of it, but no doubt disappointed that the man’s name was not in fact Beer.

However that’s the kind of thing that creates a nickname, so Bill was always Beer between us.  You’d put a CD on hold, you’d write “Beer” on it.  You’d know who it was for!  It was for Bill, obviously.