The summer before my mission I worked at a dry cleaners that was next door to a Gold's Gym. Dick Nourse was a regular/weekly customer.

Most of our regulars we knew by name and could help right away when dropping off or picking up clothes.

But Dick Nourse just rubbed me the wrong way. He always chose to come into our shop before or after visiting the gym, wearing his weightlifting belt, dressed in a tank top, and with a towel around his neck. He would lean forward and put his hands on the counter like he was flexing his triceps. And he clearly skipped leg day.

So despite knowing exactly who he was when he came in every week, I would look at him blankly each time he did and ask, "Your last name?"

"Nourse. Dick Nourse." (delivered in his best newscaster voice). I could tell it bugged him.