We all called him “the Wiener”. Poor guy. He was just trying to be accepted by the rest of us guys but somehow he always made a fool of himself. He appeared quite insecure and his personality reflected that, at least when he was around us.
Andrew certainly did at his tender age of 15 have some additional extra volume around his waist but that was not the reason for his nickname. It was one of my friends that first labeled him “the Wiener” after it became known that he was a glutten for sausages. In the small town I grew up in people were quickly given nicknames and as long as they were in this town they would be known by their nickname, sometimes funny and sometimes nasty names, but always due to something you has done or said. Labelling you as a sort of a confirmation that it had been noticed.
As it happened I, however, was only called by a short of my christened name “Jeremiah” – it was of course “Jerry” – and I was not jewish... I never really knew if that meant I was referred to as “a Jerry” but I seemed to be accepted well enough and so I was OK with that.
My street was a mixed community of old and young. Then one day there were words that “the Wiener” had rescued one of the old ladies living down the street from a burglar and forcefully thrown the burglar out for never to return. Word went around and before long Andrew became known as “the Man”. Quite deserved and good for him. “The Wiener” was gone and “the Man” never looked back…