Saturday is a big day for us in The Shop. It's not unusual to require a Starbucks before this shift.
Now, I've been going to this Starbucks for about a year and a half, the staff know my regular drink, many of them just ask "The Usual?". I think the girl behind the counter this morning was having a bad day or something because she asked me for my name (what a psycho you serve me every morning and I always say the same name). I suppressed my rage and looked up sweetly to boldly say "Jill with a J". I can't stand it when people make the
understandable mistake of misspelling my name but it really annoys me. I'm not Gillian, or Gill, or Gilly. Birth name = Jill. Just Jill. When I was a little girl it was Jilly. Then when I was old enough to know better I made it Jillie. I know with my weird half breed Geordie accent the way I say some thing is often misunderstood here in Wales so I settle for my normal name when confronted with strangers, or generally just people I don't want to get to know. Especially people who have the power to tarnish my vital morning beverage. The white cup embossed with with the green lady. The bitter brown liquid of the gods. Would you dare ruin this beacon of shining glory? Why would you do this to me?
It set the tone for the day.