Alright, so I just went downstairs to a sandwich shop to grab myself some lunch. The place is pretty packed, and I notice they opt for the personal customer service touch when your order is ready, i.e. they yell your name instead of giving you a number. Which is fine... except when you're me.
This sandwich shop also happens to give its menu items really ridiculous names. I ordered a chicken salad w/ bacon on Rye; they call this the "Young Republican." So you'll hear people's orders announced as such: "Joe, Democrat!" or "Susie, Young Republican!" The fact that I happen to prefer to eat the Young Republican sandwich, but would hardly consider myself one, is in itself enough to create lunchtime anxiety.
Anyhow, having dealt with name issues for some 20+ years now, I quickly think to myself, hmm, should I be 'Amy' today? What name's it gonna be? By the time I was placing my order though, I had nothing, so ... the lady writes down (in rather neat writing, mind you) P o u y.
I wait a few minutes and then I see what I think is my sandwich, upon which time another lady yells, "DOUG!! Young Republican!! DOUG!!"
Geezus. To think I was so happy when I saw that the "U" was written properly (did not look like a cursive "N"), so I'd easily dodge the ever-popular "Pony" reference (true story).
So there it was. Pouy had somehow translated into Doug. I quickly approach the counter and say, "Yeah. That's me. It's a P. My name is Pouy. Thanks." The nice and friendly lady looks at the order slip again, stares back up at me, tilts her head a little, and delivers her best apology: "I am so sorry. I am so, so sorry."
I smile politely, as if to say "You suck. Try a little harder next time. And change the names of the sandwiches on your stupid menu. Thanks, goodbye."
"This is a demonstration that the fabled unicorn, which we all know from icons and legends, probably was not just a fantasy. It was probably an animal like this one, with a natural anomaly."
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