On Wednesday, a man named George stopped at a post office in Sunrise. He had ordered a new birth certificate because he needed it to renew his passport. His was 30 years old.
George left the post office with the envelope still sealed. At a stoplight, he tore it open and removed the certificate to checked the details.
First name: George.
Middle name: Alexander.
Last name: Lewis.
George, an IT consultant who is 58 and black with broad shoulders and a mustache, drove on, listening to AM talk radio, when he heard the news from across the Atlantic. The baby prince of Cambridge had been given a name.
"George," the man on the radio said, "Alexander Lewis."
The other George, the one devoid of noble blood, was stunned. He'd owned that name since the 1950s and now an infant, 4,419 miles away (7,110 kilometers), had claimed it before, oh, just a few billion people.
Some of Sunrise George's friends knew him by his first name, some by middle and a few by all three. How long would it take for them to make the connection — and the teasing to begin?
When George got home, he logged onto Twitter.
Then he saw it.
"George Alexander Louis."
Louis. Not Lewis. The man on the radio had mispronounced it.
"I felt a little better," he said.
And, maybe, just a little disappointed.