I’ve spent some time over the past couple of years thinking about the name I give at takeout. I’m sure you are familiar with this process, reader. You order a drink or a meal, give your name as you pay, and wait to hear your name as confirmation that the order is ready. It’s possibly associated with Starbucks (I don’t really keep a pulse on these things) but it’s common enough that I’m sure most folks living in the city will have encountered the system in one place or another.
The origins of the system are unclear to me. It closely resembles The Deli Ticket Method where a customer pulls a number from a kiosk and waits to hear the number. The deli system was so ubiquitous that I’ve heard people say ‘take a number like everyone else’ as a substitute for ‘please wait’. Takeout lines could have easily retained this feature without much confusion. I suppose there are some differences in the two systems (timing of arrival, possibility of doing other things during the interval, speed of order preparation, etc) but these differences don't explain why a name system was necessary for takeout.
I’m forced to conclude that folks just feel it’s more personal to use a name rather than a number. This is fine with me. I like names, including my own. But it introduces a new set of problems for certain people – like me. Is it Tim’s order, or Jim’s? And I'm not self-centered here, I recognize the same issue exists for the Erics and Derricks out there. And let's not forget Bob, in fact, if you see him, tell him that the sandwich isn't for him, it's for Rob. And those fries, those are for... Jen? Ben? Ken? Len? Wren is surely out of style, right… ?
The short version is that for the past few years I’ve been telling folks my name is Tim and I’ve spent the next fifteen minutes convinced of impending disaster. Honestly, those times when I had to repeat myself, I might as well have just walked out (no, it’s not... KIM… apparently the only Asian name in history). After all my suffering, I decided the only sensible solution was to come up with a fake name. I could use this name for takeout orders to eliminate any and all confusion. The ideal name would require two features – common enough to pronounce, not common enough for to share with a fellow diner.
I came up with a short list of strong candidates that fit the bill (but not Bill). I was ready to go but I kept running into one problem – I almost always forgot my fake names. I'm not talking about after I used it, I'm talking about at the counter. When it came down to it, if someone asked my name, I gave… my name. Turns out, lying in response to "What's your name?" is a really difficult task (especially when hungry). My problem was a disease with no cure.
One day, I was standing around waiting to hear ‘Tim’ for takeout. I passed the time by boring my friends with this exact story. At some point, one of us made the point – wouldn’t Timothy work? And it does, it so obviously does, that I was compelled to check if Timothy meant dumbass in French. How did I not think of this myself? The answer was right under my nose, all along! I’ve opted for this method on a semi-consistent basis these days and life is great, just great. Still, I do regret that I never remembered those fake names... pizza for WINSTON...
Oh, who am I kidding, I never would have remembered to go pick it up.
