It was one of those conversations where you don't really know the person, but it would be rude to ignore him entirely while you wait for the elevator together, and you're not quite sure how the topic came up but suddenly you're telling him no, you didn't take your (now ex-)husband's last name. Like, apologetically or something. Who frigging cares, right? But the guy goes all silent on you and you know, deep in your heart of hearts, you're being judged.
Naturally, his perfectly perky yoga-doing, organic-foods-eating, stay-at-home-mom of a wife simply leapt at the opportunity to take his last name. It was all he could do to keep her from taking his first name, too!
O, you lucky fellow, you.
So I've asked around a bit, polled all those not-name-takers I know (at least those who will admit to it), and I've gotten some most excellent reasons from them: she earned her education and built her career under her name and didn't want to go confusing the issue; it seemed like a huge pain in the arse with little gain; his last name sounds really angry.
Me? Maybe I didn't really imagine it would work out anyways (10%). Maybe I like my last name (10%). Maybe his last name sounds a lot like dildo** (80%).
**My apologies to all actual dildos out there. I know he's a blight on your reputation for being hard-working, industrious members of society, spreading joy and peace in your wake. Among other things. As a friend of mine once said:
"Why would you call him a dildo? That's mean. At least dildos are useful."
Touche, my friend. I'll work on thinking up something new.