What do 18th-century wigs and your boss have in common? 10 slang stories

When we look at how English speakers describe the people in charge, we find a colorful catalog of metaphors. Instead of using formal titles like "master" or "director", we have spent centuries inventing funny nicknames to describe the folks at the top. Many of these terms have fascinating histories. Some started on the stage, others in bowling alleys, and some in the courts of the 18th century. Here are 10 of the most famous nicknames used to refer to important people, along with the surprising stories of how they entered our vocabulary.

If you are the "top banana", you are the undisputed leader of an organization. The expression comes straight from the world of American burlesque and vaudeville of the early 20th century.

Comedy acts of the era often featured three performers. The lead comedian, the one who got the spotlight and the biggest laughs, was called the "top banana". The supporting comics were relegated to "second banana" and "third banana". Why a banana? The lead comic’s routine often involved a prop, and in many popular acts, a literal banana was handed over as a reward after a successful punch line.

Today, we associate "kingpin" with the leader of a cartel or a criminal enterprise. However, its origins are associated with sports. The term comes from the game of ninepins (an ancestor of modern bowling), dating back to the early 1800s.

The "kingpin" was the tallest, most central pin in the setup. If you managed to hit the kingpin right, it would knock down all the other pins, securing a perfect game. Because this single pin controlled the fate of all the others, the word naturally entered the English language to describe any highly influential person whose actions control an entire group.

We use "boss" so casually today that it hardly feels like slang, but its rise in American English was actually an act of political rebellion. "Boss" comes from the Dutch word baas, meaning "master".

In the 17th and 18th centuries, Dutch colonists settled in what is now New York. English-speaking workers adopted the word baas as a deliberate alternative to the traditional "master". In a young, democratic America, "master" felt far too servile and feudal. "Boss" allowed workers to acknowledge who was in charge without compromising their personal sense of pride.

When you want to describe the absolute highest authority in a hierarchy, you might call them the "big enchilada". While the culinary term "enchilada" is centuries old, using it to describe a powerful person is a mid-20th-century American political phenomenon.

The term entered the national consciousness during the 1973 Watergate scandal. In secretly recorded White House tapes, John Ehrlichman, an advisor to President Richard Nixon, was heard referring to former Attorney General John Mitchell as "the big enchilada". He meant that Mitchell was the key player, the main target, and the man who held all the cards. The phrase caught on instantly in the media and remained a popular way to describe a dominant leader.

If someone is referred to as the "Big Kahuna", they are the ultimate boss or the expert whose opinion carries the most weight. This term is borrowed directly from the Hawaiian language.

In traditional Hawaiian culture, a kahuna is a respected expert, priest, healer, or master craftsman. When Hawaii became a global surfing destination in the mid-20th century, the term drifted into surf slang. Legendary surfer Duke Kahanamoku was often called the "Big Kahuna". By the late 1950s and 60s, Hollywood surf movies exported "Big Kahuna" to the mainland, where it lost its spiritual meaning and became a nickname for any big boss.

In the world of politics and media, calling someone "Bigfoot" has absolutely nothing to do with searching for a mythical creature in the Pacific Northwest. This modern slang originated in American journalism of the late 1970s.

When a high-profile news story breaks in a small town, national news networks will often fly in their most famous journalists. These prominent reporters trump over the local journalists who had been covering the story first, taking over the prime airtime and top billing. Because they leave a huge footprint wherever they go, frustrated local reporters began calling these elite correspondents "Bigfoots".

Calling someone a "bigwig" is one of our oldest insults for a person who thinks they are incredibly important, and it has roots in historical fashion. The expression dates back to the 17th and 18th centuries, when powdered wigs (periwigs) were the prime style for wealthy people.

Wigs were incredibly expensive to buy and maintain. Naturally, the wealthier and more powerful a person was, the larger and more elaborate their wig would be. Bishops, judges, and aristocrats wore towering mounds of powdered hair on their heads. So, the working-class began referring to these elites as "bigwigs". Although the fashion died out, the insult survived.

To be a "kingfish" is to be an influential, often charismatic leader who dominates a local area or organization. Though the name originally refers to a predatory marine fish, it became a political nickname in the 1930s.

The term is tied to Huey P. Long, the powerful and controversial Governor and Senator of Louisiana. Long adopted the nickname "The Kingfish" himself, taking it from a character on the popular radio show Amos 'n' Andy. Long used the moniker to project a heroic persona to his supporters, becoming a clever tool of political branding.

A "big shot" is someone wealthy and influential. This expression became popular in the United States during the Prohibition era of the 1920s.

The term "big shot" was associated with gang violence. Mobsters who controlled the illegal alcohol trade were the "big shots", meaning they were the ones calling the shots and firing the weapons. Over time, the violent side of the term softened, leaving us with a playful way to describe anyone who holds a ton of influence.

If you are the "top dog", you are the winner, the leader. This idiom can be traced back to 19th-century sports.

In competitive arenas, the competitor that ended up on top of their opponent at the end of a match was crowned the "top dog". The loser, then, was the "underdog". The contrast between these two roles resonated so deeply with the public that both terms migrated into the English language to describe the winners and losers of life, business, and politics.

Decoding

Being a "treasured guest" is not a compliment. This is the hidden meaning

Have you ever heard "Code Adam" while shopping for groceries at Walmart? Or maybe you’ve heard how "Dr. Firestone" was being paged during a routine hospital visit. They sound like harmless announcements. But behind these ordinary words are secret codes staff use to signal emergencies without causing panic. From hospitals and supermarkets to airports and Disney Parks, these phrases quietly warn employees that something is happening. You hope you never hear them, but if you do, it helps to know exactly what they mean.

We all love getting special attention at airports or hotel desks, but if you hear the clerk call you a "treasured guest," don’t feel so flattered. You may not be as VIP as one could think.

In the hospitality industry, "treasured guest" has become a humorous bit of industry folklore to describe someone causing trouble. Maybe a customer yelling at staff over expired coupons, demanding impossible accommodations, or throwing a full-blown tantrum at the front desk. Whatever it is, the phrase has become the staff’s secret way to warn co-workers without escalating the situation in front of the customers. Most guests don’t realize the meaning, but once you know it, you may start hearing it more often. We just hope it’s not about you.

Imagine you’re pushing a shopping cart through Walmart when suddenly the overhead speaker announces, "Code Adam." You can easily assume it’s some kind of employee meeting or cleanup request. But when you see them start locking the exits and moving around, you know something’s wrong.

This code was created in 1994 by Walmart in collaboration with the National Center for Missing & Exploited Children (NCMEC), in memory of the tragic case of 6-year-old Adam Walsh. Adam was abducted from a Sears department store in 1981 while shopping with his mother. His father, John Walsh, later became famous for hosting the TV program America’s Most Wanted and advocating for missing children. Even if Adam’s story ended in tragedy, Walmart created the emergency system in Adam’s memory, and other retailers soon adopted it nationwide, intending to have a quick response to missing or abducted children.

You’re sitting in a hospital waiting room during a routine check-up when you suddenly hear "Code Blue, Room 214." Most people immediately know it sounds serious, even if they are not entirely sure why.

The phrase "Code Blue" is used at hospitals to draw the necessary staff and equipment to perform a resuscitation. It was created in the early 1960s at Beathany Medical Center by Dr. Hughes Day. Before then, hospital resuscitations were often chaotic and poorly coordinated. In 1961, Dr. Day received a grant to build one of America’s first cardiac care centers, and he developed both the Code Blue alert system and the modern crash cart to improve survival rates during cardiac emergencies. Today, the system is used in hospitals across the country, sometimes with specialized versions like "Code Blue Pediatric" or "Code Blue Neonate."

Imagine visiting a loved one in the hospital when the intercom calmly announces, "Paging Dr. Firectone to the third floor." Your head surely goes, "Dr. Firestone’s probably having a busy day up there." He is, but it’s not what you think.

The phrase is actually a discreet fire alert used to warn staff about smoke, flames, or overheating equipment without frightening patients and visitors. Hospitals adopted these coded announcements after realizing that openly yelling "fire" over loudspeakers could create panic, especially among patients who aren’t able to move quickly. "Code Red" is an alternative used by many health centers today, but it also hints at the situation while keeping hallways calm.

You’re standing at a checkout counter when the cashier picks up the phone and quietly says, "I need a Code 10 authorization." If you think that’s just another way to get a supervisor’s approval or technical issue, think again. In reality, the cashier may suspect the credit card is stolen or fraudulent.

Code 10 was developed through a cooperative effort between major credit card companies like Visa and Mastercard, along with international standard organizations. As credit cards became more common in the 1960s and 1970s, stores needed a discreet way to alert banks about suspicious activity without directly accusing customers and potentially putting employees at danger. When a cashier requests a Code 10, the bank’s operator begins asking yes-or-no questions to assess the situation and guide the employee on what to do next.

You’ve probably experienced those long airport security lines. The wait is usually uneventful. But sometimes, you can hear "Code Bravo" over the speakers. Maybe it’s a delay, or maybe it’s an issue with luggage. Within seconds, people stop moving, the security line freezes, and exits may even close. It’s something bigger.

Code Bravo is the emergency phrase used by airport security and the Transportation Security Administration to signal a serious security threat, such as an unattended bag, a breach at a checkpoint, or someone slipping into a restricted area. The term comes from the international phonetic alphabet used in aviation and military communications, where "Bravo" represents the letter B. When this is called, security staff immediately lock down affected areas, stop screening lines, and search for the source of the threat. To passengers, it’s sudden and confusing, but to security, it’s a carefully rehearsed response.

You are heading back to your cabin on a cruise ship when the speakers announce, "Code Alpha, Deck 7." You may think Alpha is related to the captain, but that’s not the case. It means someone on board is suffering a medical emergency.

The phrase comes from the NATO phonetic alphabet, where "Alpha" represents the letter A. In maritime emergency jargon, it became shorthand for a Priority A medical situation requiring immediate response. Cruise lines such as Royal Caribbean and Disney Cruise Line commonly use the term, though some ships use variations like repeating "Alpha" three times. Once the code is announced, onboard medical teams rush toward the specified deck or cabin. If necessary, stretcher crews are mobilized, and in severe cases, the ship may even divert course toward the nearest port for emergency evacuation. Passengers are enjoying the views, but the staff is running to save a life.

Anyone who remembers the CB radio craze of the 1970s probably smiles when they hear "10-4." Movies, truckers, and radio fans turned those number codes into a part of American culture. So if you overhear "10-33" on a police scanner, you might assume it’s just another routine message. But it’s not as simple as it sounds.

The 10-code system was first created in 1937 by Illinois State Police communications director Charles Hopper and later standardized by the Association of Public Safety Communications Officials, better known as APCO. Officers needed short phrases they could understand clearly over crackling radio signals. The 10-33 code commonly means an officer needs emergency assistance. In some departments, it also signals radio silence so dispatchers can focus on the crisis unfolding in real time.

Disney World is amazing, the parks offer something for everyone, and there are things to see wherever you look. But that’s exactly the kind of place where a child can easily disappear into a sea of strollers, balloons, characters, and crowds. For that reason, Disney has developed the "Signal 70," which alerts cast members and security that a child has become separated from their family.

The number comes from older police and emergency radio systems, where "70" was commonly associated with missing persons. Disney adopted the phrase because it allows employees to communicate discreetly without frightening or alarming nearby guests. If a member finds the child, they gently -and magically- escort them to Baby Care Center, where they coordinate the reunion.

Cruises are great to relax, enjoying a good book under the sun with a nice drink by the side. Until you hear "Echo, echo, echo" on the speakers. If you do, something is happening somewhere else on the ship.

The code is used among cruise employees to signal that dangerous winds or a navigational hazard are affecting the ship. It comes from the international maritime phonetic alphabet, where "Echo" stands for the letter E. In maritime signalling, the letter traditionally means "I am altering my course to starboard." And, in time, the phrase became associated with urgent ship maneuvers and weather-related warnings. However urgent, the repetition of the word by three doesn’t represent life-threatening situations. It alerts the crew of a certain hazard to prepare while avoiding panic among passengers.