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March 5, 2008 / Maleesha Kovnesky

Say My Name…

To answer the questions:

  • No, I don’t have a new job lined up
  • No, I am not going to stay home with the kids…nice, but can’t afford that
  • We may be moving, but our house could take 6 months to sell in this market
  • I didn’t slam the keys down and there was no storming.  I did envision it that way, but it was very easy and nice and I was invited back if I didn’t find anything new

But besides all that, I wanted to discuss the practice of Saying My Name.  After a farewell dinner with friends last night, we stopped at Safeway to pick up some milk.  The cashier glanced at the receipt and said, “Thanks, Ms. Kovnesky.”  Now I really hate this.  Please stop pretending that you know who I am.  It’s fake, it’s lame, and it makes me want to shop somewhere else.  You’re a huge, national grocery store chain.  You aren’t a mom and pop shop in Pleasantville.  Stop trying to convince me that you are.  If you want me to think that, stop importing vegetables from outside of the United States and stop charging ridiculous prices for food, otherwise I’ll have to go grocery shopping at Wal-Mart because I won’t be able to afford you anymore.  Anyway… 

Starbucks and other places do this too.  They ask for your name and write it, or some bastardized form of it, on your cup.  It’s always spelled wrong.  Then the barista on the end of the line has to call out your name, but they can never read the writing of the other barista who wrote it on the cup in the first place.  They’ll yell out “A nonfat latte for…Ma…Ma…Malissssshaw?”  After enduring the glares from other patrons (they’re all looking up to see who has that awful name) you grab your coffee and say “Thanks.”  Even though you don’t mean thanks, because people who don’t know you at all should not pretend they do by reading your name off of a cup.

The WORST is when there is a little placard at the counter that says “If I don’t ask for your name when you order, the meal is on us!”  I don’t WANT you to know my name.  I’m really sorry that your boss will probably fire you if I don’t give you my name, but I just can’t help you.  There are over 300 million people in this country.  Let’s just finally admit we can’t know (or pronounce) everyone we meet.  And that’s okay.  I promise to come back, if you knock this pretentious garbage off. 

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5 Comments

Leave a Comment
  1. pikespeakdenise / Mar 9 2008 8:02 am

    I give Frank as my name a lot. It started because Frank seems to have had a gift for putting his name on absurdly long restaurant waiting lists and getting called right away.

    Coconut bras send nicely. And I hope there is at least one more farewell dinner, or game night, before you go!

  2. maleesha / Mar 7 2008 7:53 pm

    Definitely no coconut bras where I am going…

    THAT IS EXACTLY WHAT I WAS GOING FOR!! BAND CAMP!

  3. Allison / Mar 7 2008 11:37 am

    Okay, when I saw the title of this post, the first thing I thought of was a scene from American pie with the band camp girl and the lamp. Not sure if that’s what you intended, but I found it funny nonetheless.

    I too dislike the name game.

  4. Christine / Mar 6 2008 7:25 pm

    Moving where? Can I still buy you coconut bras?

  5. Dave / Mar 5 2008 9:55 pm

    Try using made up names. I know a guy who uses names of famous people when he goes to restaurants. “Roy Orbison – party of 4”. Hilarious!

    And I hope it wasn’t really a “farewell” dinner. 😉

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