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, August 24, 2012
Kera by Tara
August 24, 2012
Starbucks
Los Angeles, CA
To test the theory of whether or not I was saying my name in such a strange martian language that no one could understand it, my friend Tara ordered my drink for me.
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