Our offices here at work are spread across three contiguous floors: the 12th, 15th, and 16th. In China, buildings usually skip naming the 13th floor (out of general triskaidekaphobia) and any floors with “4” in them because the sound of the word for “four” (sì) sounds similar to the word for “death” (sǐ).
I haven’t worked up the courage to admit to my coworkers that the “IV” at the end of my name is actually a Roman numeral. In addition to chiding me for shaming my ancestors by re-using the exact same name as my father, I don’t want them to start referring to me as “David Death.”
Actually, scratch that. That’s pretty awesome. Everybody start calling me David Death from now on.
Considering your size, with a name like that you can start doing some amateur wrestling on the side. “And now, from the fighting city of Pasadena, California, here comes DAVID DEATH!”
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