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.
Friday, September 9, 2011
Open for Interpretation
September 9, 2011
California Chicken Cafe
Hollywood, CA
Now when I placed my order for pick up, I spelled my name for him. Twice.
Kewen? Kawer? That's not my name.
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