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It's a Thursday night, and I'm out grabbing some drinks with some friends.

It's been a long week and my only vice is an obscenely large Aperol Spritz that I willingly pay $25 for at a Sydney pub.

We're laughing. Blowing off steam. What a lovely night with friends.

Watch: The hosts of Mamamia Out Loud discuss the people they find untrustworthy. Post continues below.

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The types of people we find untrustworthy | Mamamia Out Loud

Until someone says a few of their work pals are coming to join us. No worries! Another round of Aperols please, good sir!

Said work pals settle in around us on the table. We get to chatting. A lovely gentleman named Mike is talking to me in great detail about the technicalities of pickleball as if I was born yesterday.

"Well, Lucy, here's the thing…"

"And, Lucy, what if I told you…"

"That's a great joke, Lucy, you're very funny and also beautiful…"

Okay, the last one might not have been totally accurate, but the general theme remains.

I'm completely taken out of the conversation by the sheer amount of times this guy is saying my name.

I know it's, well, my name and everything, so there's nothing inherently wrong with calling me by it, but there's a certain feeling I get from it coming out of someone's mouth in any situation that isn't notifying me that my coffee is ready.

When people call me by my name as we're actively talking, my body kind of tenses up as if I'm either in trouble, or talking to a serial killer. Maybe both. For reasons I cannot fully explain and refuse to examine, it feels like you're trying to sell me a used car rather than a casual chat over a drink. It's shady.

When I really think about it, I can't remember the last time I called my friends by their name, unless I'm calling them from another room or talking about them to someone else.

The habit, I find, is mostly used by men. And I've investigated further to find which TikTok video they may have learnt it from.

I think I found them. Image: TikTok/ @trippadvice, @ciriwren.

As it turns out, Dale Carnegie, the author of the book How to Win Friends and Influence People, wrote that a person's name is "the sweetest sound to them in any language", and while yes that is true, Dale, I do like my name, what I do not like is it being used against me, especially to make a man feel good about themselves.

Maybe it was the men who got it wrong along the way. Maybe Dale just meant using someone's name as you shake their hand, that I can allow.

"Nice to meet you, Lucy." What a perfect and appropriate way to use my name and yes, actually, I do feel important.

But at some point, the manosphere side of TikTok got their hands on it and turned it into a slightly sociopathic and very calculated dating technique that supposedly tricks women into falling in love with you.

Dale originally had said that using people's names repetitively makes you feel "important" or "valued". Dale, I do not feel those things, I feel afraid and patronised and the last thing I feel is attracted to whatever vibe is happening here, if that's what you were trying to do.

I say that next time a man overuses your name in a conversation, ping pong it right back to them and let's see how they like it.

To be fair, when discussing this article with my Mamamia colleagues, most agreed with me, but there were a select few who admitted they do actually find it attractive when men continue to use their name, so who knows, different strokes, right?

For me, there are abundantly more things that would earn my trust in a conversation before calling me by my God-given name. For example:

Laughing at my joke when no one else hears it, or saying "I'm listening" when no one hears your story the first time.

Telling me about your dog, and it has a human name like Albert.

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Asking the table if anyone else needs a drink (even if you really, really don't want to shout me one).

Providing the much-needed context for a story that you are not at all following.

Finding a common enemy (great one).

Having a good pen on you for some reason.

So, to Mike and all of the Mikes, I'm sure you're great, but I advise you to avoid TikTok when it comes to dating advice. And please, be a normal person and stop perceiving me to this extreme extent. Thanks.

Feature image: Supplied.