My name for a latte? Just call it joe
At my local
When a barista first asked for my name last month, I was startled; previously, we operated on a drink-name basis.
''Why do you want to know?" I wondered.
But all I could muster was: ''Huh?"
''For the cup," he said, tapping it with a marker.
Did this reflect progress, one small effort to make the countless, faceless customers more than mere cash-dispensing objects? I now have a name, I thought. And less of a chance someone else will swipe my latte.
But somehow it didn't feel right.
In September, as part of a new policy, my Starbucks began requiring that its baristas ask customers their names. ''We have found that customers are pleasantly surprised to be greeted by name," said Jennifer Guebert, the regional marketing director of Starbucks New England.
Surprised, yes.
At 7 a.m., however, it's hard for me to imagine anything less pleasant than a group of cranky, caffeine-depleted addicts waiting impatiently for their fix.
Maybe it's just another quirky irritation I should accustom myself to, like ''tall" instead of small or ''venti" instead of large. But those distinctions aren't personal.
In the busy hands of a cashier, your name may ring arbitrary, more a label for your cup than anything else. But if the baristas no longer register the names as belonging to a face, others in the café may. When I go to Starbucks, I'm there for tea, and I'd rather not worry about some stalker (or serial killer) overhearing my name.
The new policy also seems to foster, at best, a steady flow of unction; at worst, it strikes me as a faux, even empty, attempt at neighborliness.
I go to the same shop several times a week, often more than once a day. I see the same employees.
And yet, despite having written my name on many, many cups, no one recalls it.
Which I don't mind.
What's annoying is the impression of knowing me that using my name gives. Like smarmy, back-patting car salesmen, who oh-so-subtly ingratiate themselves by repeating your name.
Instead of feeling warm and homey, I feel robbed of a treasured pleasure of living in a big city: anonymity.
I don't want everyone to know my name, and if I did, well, Cheers is just a few blocks over.
Janice O'Leary can be reached at Janice_oleary@comcast.net. 
