Hey, Dude: Does everybody know your name? Mark Ryan

Communication protocols vary depending on the population and location.

When one works at a prison, for instance, one learns early on that it is unacceptable to refer to an inmate by the inmate’s first name. Professional boundaries are of utmost importance in that environment. One doesn’t want to make it personal, and first names are too personal. Inmates are addressed by their last names – it’s Inmate Jones, Inmate Smith, Inmate Jackson, etc.

I learned that lesson in my first week working as a registered nurse at a state correctional facility. I recall the dorm sergeant pulling me to the side and saying: “Nurse Ryan, from now on you will address inmates by their last names – only!”

The sergeant had overheard me saying something stupid to an inmate, something like, “Yo Bob, when you get a chance, I need to get your blood pressure.”

Inmates are expected to address staff by job title and last name, such as Officer Adams, Lieutenant Williams – or Nurse Ryan. One might hear the following conversation:

CAPTAIN JOHNSON: “Inmate Smith, you know it’s count time. You need to IMMEDIATELY get back in your cell.”

INMATE SMITH: “Will do, Captain Johnson. I thought Sergeant Jones wanted me to sweep up the pod.”

At the fitness center where I’m a member, I can go a long time without hearing any first or last names. The serious participants working out tend to use slang when addressing each other between machines. A verbal exchange between two men during a recent morning went something like this:

GYM PARTICIPANT NO. 1 (ready to start his workout): “You’re in here earlier than usual, aren’t you, Dog?”

GYM PARTICIPANT NO. 2 (looking up from a shoulder-press machine): “Trying to catch up with you, Big Dog.”

Younger members tend to call out fellow gym-goers as “Dudes,” while middle-agers seem to favor “Bro,” and the old-timers will say, “OK Bud,” or “OK Man.”

I overheard part of a conversation, as follows, between two lean, muscular women, one of whom had just finished her daily jog: “Looking impressive on the track today, Girl.”

Restaurants have their own communication styles — either overly formal or wildly superficial, it seems. Maybe because I’m a senior citizen, I’m frequently called “Sir” by the server, as in, “Sir, what can I get you to drink?”

Sometimes I’ll even be addressed as “Sir” twice in the same sentence — “Sir, I’ll be right back with the menu, Sir.”

I’ll also get the over-the-top flattery that I’d like to think is prompted by my good looks and wonderful personality – but, of course, I realize it is all about the tips: How you doing today, Honey? Want to see a menu, Sweetie? Need a few more minutes, Babe?

The superficiality gets kicked up another notch when I do leave a good tip.

“See you next time, Baby Doll.”

To be honest, I’d rather have the superficial approach than the old-man “Sirs.”

It is imperative not to confuse the communication protocols. Imagine how long it would take for a corrections officer to be counseled or fired if he or she was addressing inmates as “Dog” or “Dude,” or “Sir.”

When a corrections employee – security or medical staff – is fired from a Florida corrections facility, the phrase often used to describe the termination is “gate cut.” For example, if Nurse Ryan had been terminated for a policy infraction or other kind of bad behavior, and a co-worker asked what happened to Nurse Ryan, the correct response would be that he was gate cut.

I’m afraid that one day, overtired, I might slip back into that authoritative corrections lingo while dining at one of my favorite restaurants.

ME: “Waitress, the spoon is dirty. You WILL go back in the kitchen and get me a clean spoon.”

Or ME: “Waitress, I’m not a GQ model – and you KNOW it. Knock off all the cutesy talk.”

If I tried those lines at one of my favorite restaurants, the server would almost certainly transition to slow-service mode at my table.

It’s unlikely a customer would ever be gate cut from Denny’s or Cracker Barrel.

Mark Ryan is a Tallahassee RN.

This article originally appeared on Tallahassee Democrat: What's in a name? It depends on who's talking