My regular Starbucks is now asking your name so they can call you when the order is ready:
–What is your name?
–oh, okay, Zivorah?
//yeah let’s just go with that one
They never did call me, but when I went up there I read on the side of my cup “Qoborah”
It’s just a recipe for disaster with how many ethnic and religious groups live in this area.
Last month I got a letter addressed to “Mr. Tzipjiberick.” Awesomeness! They even messed up my gender on that one.
(I just realized that my first and last names combined have 17 letters. heh. Never noticed that.)