Nicknames

When I reached the coffee station in the cafeteria where I live, a
young man replied to my request for tea. "Tea? Fit for a King.
The man who would be King." I told him that I would probably
only get to be a court jester. So, to him, I am "The Tea Jester."

I have been fascinated by the large numbers of ducks which
land in a park beside my residence. They are all mallards, and
come to eat bread thrown to them by other residents. The
ducks scramble for the chunks. After one grabs one in his bill,
another runs in at his side to grab what is visible and runs away
with it. If the first duck opens his bill to protest, another duck
will grab the morsel from inside it. If the duck is still upset, it
reaches around and nips the closest duck on the hindquarters.

I joked with another resident that the cooks would gather some
ducks and that we would find that one of the frequent Chef's
Special meals would feature mallard. The other resident, also
a writer, gave me the nickname, "Mallard."

Recently, while I was feeding the ducks some bread, three ofthe males walked toward me and sat down in front of me, one directly in front and one to each side, in a V formation.

I offered bread to the duck closest to me. He grabbed it, then
tossed it over his back. Other ducks further back rushed to
grab it and another feeding frenzy pageant unfolded.

The closest duck looked up at me, opened it's bill, and made
a sound. It was not a "quack".

I was puzzled by their unusual behaviour. Since I was not
familiar with their social customs and language, and did not
have my Berlitz "Mallard-English" dictionary with me, I left them.
Later, I pondered why they had met in front of me.

It finally occurred to me --- they had made me their "Duck King."
I could see myself dressed in a down robe, bright green on the
top, with a white band around the neck and black, grey and white below, with
my bright orange webbed running shoes. I held a bullrush
scepter with a dark brown hot dog on top, on a green staff.
I wore a duck crown, as I sat on a large water lily leaf, while
drinking "The King" tea from a yellow butter cup.

So, now I am "Mallard, the Duck King Jester." Unfortunately, it
doesn't sound quite so complimentary when it is called out in
drinking establishments. "My Lord, it's the (f--ing) Jester!"

It is quite amazing what one must endure, just to have
tea and quackers.