Some people have it worse: https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_people_with_surname_Dick
I had a professor in college whose surname was Dick. Doctor Dick. Actually, now that I think about it, I'm not sure that I ever took a class of his but I was something of a force in the department and I knew everyone and everyone knew me. At one of the initial department meetings of undergraduates a graduate student, a woman, told us, shockingly, I thought, that women should be aware of Professor Dick because at department parties he would 'get drunk and try to take advantage of you.'
First of all, to make that sort of accusation publicly you really need to be able to substantiate it. Second, Professor Dick was plainly a homosexual. Still is, if he's still alive. So it was kind of weird.
I guess I got to know him better when I ended up teaching some of his first year classes and we ended up discussing various students over the course of the semesters. I was strangely respected by my/his students. That's a gratification that I draw from more often than you might think.
I last saw Doctor Dick on the DC Metro. He was northbound on the Red Line, bound for Shady Grove, I should clarify. I was exiting I suppose. It was in the afternoon, right around rush hour. I must have been exiting at Tenleytown. My rich girlfriend would drive over and wait for me as I returned home from work. Anyway, I saw him standing inside the train and sort of hoped he wouldn't see me outside. But he did, of course, and he took two long, quick strides towards the window and half playfully jabbed his index finger into the window, hard, with a sort of don't be a stranger look.
But I never went back there until I had to go to the emergency room, and at that point I didn't really have the time for social calls.
Of course, that was when I had hair like Taylor Motter. It looked awesome.
