Starbucks Saga - Part 1

A week ago I was hanging out at the bookstore, looking at books I wanted to buy but knew I couldn't because of my little self imposed book buying ban (because I have enough books to last me awhile. A few months at least). I was also checking out a California Writer's Group meeting where members got together and read from different stories. It was interesting. For the first half hour. I stayed another twenty minutes then got up to leave. I saw a Starbucks across the street and thought "Mocha Frappuccino! Yum!" I hopped in and started the car. Barry Manilow's song 'Copacabana' was playing on the radio, so naturally I cranked up the volume and started singing at the top of my lungs.

Her name was Lola
She was a showgirl
With yellow feathers in her hair
and a dress cut down to there.

Have you ever listened to the words to that song? It's kind of a depressing song. The chorus is upbeat, but it not so much the ending. Lola looses her love. And her mind! Drinking herself half blind in the same bar she used to cha-cha in. Way to bum us out Barry. Lesson of the Copacabana song: "Don't fall in love." Also, don't let men named Rico who wear diamonds in their ears hit on you when your hot tempered boyfriend Tony is busy tending bar within visual range of any potential groping.

So anywhoo, by the end of the song I was at my destination. I walked up to the store with a spring in my step, Barry Manilow in my head, and my cool new boots clomp clomp clomping on the ground (they're very loud cool new boots.)

Now, a little background info before I continue. I have this obsession. No, not with Mocha Frappuccinos, for which my already fat ass thanks me profusely, but with giving fake names to food works (i.e. restaurant hostesses, fancy shmancy coffee shop order takers, etc.) It started a few years ago. I don't remember why exactly but one day when a restaurant hostess asked for my name so she could add me to the waiting list I gave her a fake name. And it was fun. Like playing make-believe. I played the 'fake name game' a few times and it remained fun, even when certain friends laugh at the perfectly good made up name, cueing the girl in about to seat us that it wasn't really my name.

Lately I've noticed its become a habit. Especially when I go to Starbucks. I don't go often, but when I do, and they ask me for my name, pen poised near the cup, I say the first name that comes to mind. It's become a natural thing for me to do. I just can't help myself. Maybe because its fun. Really. Usually. Except for certain instances like last week.

So back to the original story. Remember: books, Barry, boots. Okay, so I walk into Starbucks and give my order to Coffee Girl. She grabs a cup and a pen and asks for my name. And what's the name that pops to the front of my brain before all others you ask with nail biting anticipation? Lola. That's right. Lola.

I'm about to say 'Lola' and I think to myself, "What? Lola? I'm not a Lola?"

I'm not sure how long that inner monologue lasted, but while it did Coffee Girl is still waiting for my name.

"Uh... Maria." I used a fall-back name, one I've used before. I see myself more of a Lola than a Maria, but oh well. I say it's healthy to look like a twit who can't remember her own name every now and then. Especially since I occasionally blank when trying to tell someone my real name. Maybe next time I'll stick with Lola. I wouldn't mind being a Lola for a few minutes. Or maybe next time I'll hear 'Mandy' on the radio. I can see myself as a Mandy. "Well you came and you gave without taking..." Yeah, I know, I'm a weirdo. :)