[This happened ages ago, when I was married. I just remembered it and thought it would amuse you guys. My ex - who was raised Catholic - was explaining their rituals to heathen ol' me.]
Ex: ...So the second of the seven sacraments is Confirmation. It's a religious ceremony that happens in your early teens, and part of it entails picking a new name for yourself. Nobody calls you by the name afterward or anything, though. It's more like having a second middle name.
Me: That's cool that you got to pick your own name, though! What was it?
Me: I'm impressed that you had the restraint to choose a name like that, at that age! I bet most of the other kids went for something cool or funny, like Catwoman or Fartface McAwesomepants.
Ex [after staring at me incredulously for a full minute]: It's...generally expected that you'll go with something Biblical.
Me: Ah. Well. That makes sense.
*I think it was Michael. But this conversation happened seriously ten years ago so I may be wrong.