It’s a well known fact that most people don’t bother giving their real names to Starbucks’ employees. I am not sure I understand why that is, it’s not like they’re asking us for our contact information but I am one of those people who has a Starbucks alter ego, and not because I am fiercely guarded or private.
Every Starbucks in my city knows me by the name ‘Donna’.
My one and only attempt at giving my real name was an epic fail that went something like this:
‘Yolanda – you can write that on my grande cup.’
“No – Yolanda.”
“No – Yolanda with an ‘a’ at the end.”
By now the line for skimmed lattes, Capuccino and Americanos was snaking out the door and spilling into the road and the young cashier’s smile had been replaced by furrowed brow.
I could feel the tension rise like hot foam in that coffee palace so I said:
‘Just call me Donna.”
Maybe it’s my accent? I like to think I still sound South African but when I last visited ‘the old country’ my husband and I were repeatedly asked ‘where are you from?’ so I am guessing the raw flatness of our accent has been warmed and lifted by Canadian cheeriness.
I don’t believe my name is particularly unusual or difficult, yet my own grandparents couldn’t pronounce my name and my mother remains stubbornly undecided to this day, on whether she meant to name me Ulanda or Yolanda.
So I am Starbucks Donna but I am also not. She may look like me but she is not me. She has nary a care in the world and her coffee is always hot.
Do you use another name? Why?