I don’t understand why everyone is so het up over this kind of race dialog while ordering a beverage. I quite welcome it. When I’m asked for my name, I usually simply say, “Elvis.” Who doesn’t know how to spell Elvis?!
Well, today is a new day. If I’m at Starbucks and am asked my name, from this day forward, my name is Tywaniqueckya. I don’t look like a Laquand’a, Tashina, Shenehneh or whatever else. Any Starbucks employee is welcome to attempt to spell it (it’s pronounced Taiwan-eek-ah), but any employee not managing to get it right on any number of cups is ill-advised to engage me in a discourse on race.
Ha. The baristas at my local Starbucks were wearing name tags that said Venellope, Persephone, and Anastasia (black gal). And no sappy “race together” nonsense scribbled on the cups. A bit of rebellion in the ranks.