It started in April of 2009, a car packed full of girls driving to Dallas for a weekend in "the big city". We were stuck in absurd traffic. After we had talked about everything under the sun, we settled on a very important topic:
When guys hit on us in bars, what fake names were we going to give them so that they would leave us alone?
It had to be an older name, we decided immediately, one that brought to mind mom jeans. "Carol," said one friend. No one could think of anything better, so... we all decided to go by Carol.
We needed a back story. How did five people all named Carol end up being best friends? There was only one option: we became friends when we met at a convention for people named Carol.
And thus began the Carol Convention.
Sidenote: my legal name is Esther. Why did that name not come up as a douchey-guy-in-bars deterrent? No one wants to talk to an Esther. Every time I tell someone my real name, they say, "That's my grandma's name!" In fact, it just happened Tuesday. (Hi, Kelly!)
I fully believe that if we'd used Esther, this legendary Carol Convention picture never would have happened: