James
It must have happened during Tuesday night, because Wednesday morning was the first time he noticed the change. He was late for work, so James didn’t have the TV on whilst he hurriedly got ready, and the radio in the car had been broken for a month, so he didn’t hear anything that way either.
Upon arriving at the office he saw Linda, the secretary, carrying a stack of papers from the copier room, and offered a meek “hi”. She smiled artificially as she glanced at him without breaking her stride. He took the elevator up to his floor (the 8th), walked around to the kitchen and cloakroom area, and hung his coat on the rack. His eye strayed to the wipe-clean board affixed to the wall next to the coat rack; it was the duty roster for office chores (such as emptying the paper-shredder bin, putting on the dishwasher in the evening, unloading it in the morning, and so forth), and every single slot had his name in it. The jokers in this office; real funny.
He walked through into the large open area where all the cubicles were, and almost immediately heard his name called. He looked over, but the speaker was on the phone to someone else. He continued walking, but slowed to a stop after only a few feet. The thing is, everyone on the phone was talking to someone called James. Every single one. Then it became apparent that everyone in the place was also greeting each other as “James”. Even the women were now James. This kept up for the whole day. Wednesday was a long one.
By the time James made it home that night, he was fully aware that this was not some office prank or bizarre coincidence. Rather, everyone was just called James now. He was certain that they’d had their regular, different names just yesterday. Linda the receptionist. Bobby the mail guy. Carl across the way from his cubicle, who talked about hockey almost every single lunchtime. All were now James. The newscaster on the radio during the drive home was introduced as James too. Ditto for the television news anchor once he got back in, and all of the field reporters.
That was 3 months ago. James was surprised at first how easy it was to determine who’s being addressed when someone calls out “James”; it’s not actually that confusing at all. It sort of works its way into your head, the subtle variations in tone which disambiguate the intended recipient.
To be honest, James has started to have doubts in recent weeks as to whether there was ever really a time when anyone was called anything else. It seems so… strange; so alien. The idea that each person would need a different name - crazy. Certainly no-one else remembers any change in names at any point; his careful questioning determined that months ago. So he just accepted it.
Tonight he has to make it a quick TV dinner, because he’s meeting the guys from work to go bowling later. James from across the way who talks about hockey all the damn time, James the mail guy, even James the receptionist who recently broke up with her boyfriend (James; he’d come out for a few drinks after work a couple of times; none of the others liked him that much anyway). He’d had his eye on James for quite a while, and tonight might be a good chance to get to know her a little better outside the office.
Yes indeed, tonight would probably be a pretty good night for old James. For all of them.