That's Not My Name

My name is Cara. 4 letters. That's all. In Italian it means Dear, in Spanish it means Face, but anywhere else in America it is apparently gibberish. This is a problem I have had all my life: Giving a name for a reservation, a drink at Starbucks, or any kind of take out order becomes a horrific process that is both time consuming and traumatizing. Everyone will invariably butcher this very small 4-letter name. I cannot be silent about the oppression of my name any longer.

Monday, May 16, 2011

Sister, Sister

May 15, 2011
Starbucks
San Diego, CA

My sister is in town for the weekend, and went to go order a chai latte. I told her to give my name and see what happened.
Here is what happened:
Barista: Name?
Sister: Cara
Barista: Karen?
Sister: Cara
Barista: Oh okay.

He then proceeded to write "Kara" on the cup, give her the change, and say "Thanks Karen"

She is much more patient than I.

That's Not My Name

Monday, May 16, 2011

Sister, Sister

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