A few months ago, I wrote about how much I love giving a fake name when placing a food order. Yesterday, this backfired on me.
I was back at Casetta Kitchen, just like in August. Ordered the same sandwich. Gave the cashier the same fake name: Dexter. Everything was going smoothly until he flipped the script and asked for a last initial.
I froze like a deer in the headlights. Here was a twist I had not been anticipating, and it threw me for a loop. My mind went blank and I could only stare at the guy, frantically trying to come up with an initial as the seconds ticked by. I should have said M – our favorite fictional serial killer’s last name is Morgan, duh – but all I could come up with under withering pressure was an uncomfortable, “Umm…”
Good hell. The cashier must have thought I was nuts. Who doesn’t know their own name?! After eight or nine excruciatingly long seconds, I spat out “H” in desperation. I had to give the guy something, and the longer I drew out my response, the more idiotic I appeared. Guys, I don’t even like the letter H (no offense to the Henrys and Heidis of the world) – it’s my least favorite letter of the alphabet. It sounds like you’re trying to cough up a hairball when you say it, and “H” is awfully close to itch and ache, two unpleasant sensations. M, by contrast, is smooth and pleasurable. Mmm. Yeah, baby. Delicious.
Is H even necessary? What role does it play in what or why? You could order an “amburger” or “ot dog” and there would be no confusion whatsoever. The cashier would just assume you had a Cockney accent.
I have no idea why they even asked for a last initial. Had (‘ad) another Dexter placed an order right before me?! Seems unlikely, unless we have another prankster who plays the same fake name game. The idea of an imposter pissed me off, until I remembered that I was an imposter too. But I was the original imposter, dammit. Back off, bub!
Regardless, I sheepishly retreated to the lobby after paying for my sandwich, studiously avoiding eye contact with the cashier. And when they called out “Dexter H.” five minutes later – sure enough, complete with the initial that had caused me so much internal grief – I grabbed my bag and quickly retreated to the anonymity of downtown Madison.
If you think I learned a lesson from this embarrassing experience, you’re right. But probably not the one I should have learned. Am I going to use my real name from now on? Perish the thought; where’s the fun in that?! But next time, I’ll be fully prepared with a last initial (not H).
I should probably come up with a backstory while I’m at it in case they really start to drill deeply.
Speaking of drilling deeply, Landman Season 2 is now out. We watched the first episode and it’s just as stellar as last season. I love Billy Bob Thornton as oil businessman Tommy Norris almost as much as I love a great segue.
Drugs or Ransom?
The Wednesday weirdness wasn’t over yet. When I stepped onto the elevator at CheeseGov, heading (‘eading) for the lobby and my way home (‘ome), I spotted a piece of paper on the floor. Litterbugs annoy me, so I picked it up and saw that it was an bank receipt. Curious, I glanced at the transaction.
Someone had withdrawn $5,000 in cash from their checking account shortly after noon.
Whoa. Who does that?! Two possibilities immediately sprang to mind: someone was either buying drugs or paying a ransom for a kidnapped loved one. I mean, there’s no other explanation, right?!
Either that or I need to ask for a raise, ’cause I guarantee you I’m not making enough cheddar at CheeseGov to be able to withdraw thousands of dollars on a random Wednesday. I don’t think I’ve ever withdrawn more than a few hundred dollars at once, which I guess means I don’t have any loved ones worthy of a kidnapping.
There are benefits to being born into a non-wealthy, non-famous family.
Is that the Polar Vortex I see on the ‘orizon?
One week until Thanksgiving. Time’s a-flyin’! Remind me to take the turkey out of the freezer this weekend, please and thank you.
I probably should have reminded my brother to put the turkey into the freezer. He bought one once, a few years ago, well ahead of time and stuck it in the refrigerator. When he took it out the night before to brine it, he discovered it had gone bad. Naturally, he was hosting that year. Ouch.
Then again, I’ve had my share of Thanksgiving fails. Like exploding turkeys and hospital stays. I’m always a little leery this time of year.
It may not feel like winter is fast approaching, but it sure looks like it. All the leaves that were on the trees not so long ago are now littering the ground.
Or were littering the ground. They’ve pretty much all been raked into piles and deposited into compost bins or mulched into next-to-nothingness now.
Looking at the 10-day forecast, it appears the Polar Vortex may be expanding just in time for the holiday. Looks like a sub-freezing Thanksgiving and even colder Black Friday. Glad I’m not traveling next weekend!
Though I am traveling the following week, knock on wood…
What’s your favorite/least favorite letter of the alphabet? Do you watch Landman? Is there a reasonable non-criminal explanation for that $5,000 withdrawal? Are you traveling for Thanksgiving?
Mark My Words 
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