rii

I have two names.
I have three names actually.
Two that were given to me by my parents.
One that was chosen by me.
Yes, I take credit for it.
I mean, I could have made it disappear.
I could have.
I didn't.
I liked it.
It all started in chemistry class.
Ninth grade.
I walk into class with a nice pink shirt.
It was a dull kind of pink.
Very classy.
This classy shirt had a letter on it.
Not L.
But R.
My newly made friend looks at me and says, "Hi, but your name starts with an L not an R."
Then she gave me a look.
The kind that says you are crazy and I'm starting to doubt me being associated with you.
I look at her and say, "Hi, I liked the shirt; there were no Ls."
I said that.
Punctuation and everything.
She replies, "well, that's not acceptable. You need an R name."
I smile, "sure".
The class starts.
Minutes go by and she whispers, "you are rii rii."
I whisper back, "sure."
After the class ends, I ask her, "rii rii?"
She says, "to go with the shirt."
I didn't realize at that time what it meant.
Even though she denies it, rii rii came from retard.
Except it was BAMF-icated by writing it with to i's.
That was my input, that and no capitalization of the r.
We used to say BAMF in ninth grade.
It was cool.
Whatever.
It stuck.
Like gum on a shoe.
Like a baby on his or her mother's breast.
Or bottle.
Whichever is the provider of the milk.
Except it got shortened to rii.
It has a few derivations: rii sauce, riisita.
Not a lot of people call me rii now.
I miss it a lot.
It was a name I picked.
I answer to my real name and rii the same.
I don't hesitate.
It comes naturally.
Spontaneously.
Like a combustion.
I hope it never dies.
rii.