….That which we call a Rose, would smell as sweet if it had any other name” – Juliet, Romeo and Juliet, Shakespeare.

But according to Starbucks, there’s a lot in a name and you may have noticed if you are fond of sauntering down to your local Starbucks and ordering a coffee to go, they have implemented a new system.

Instead of just calling out your order at the bar, they now ask for your name and gloriously declare, “Caramel Macchiatto for Karlie!” . One Barrista explained, “it’s not just a Latte or a Cappuccino, it’s a Latte or a Cappuccino for you, it’s personal” Me, being me, loves it. In fact since it began I have been playing a little game with the Barristas on how to spell my name. We’re having fun! Okay, okay, I’M having fun! They mainly look confused. Why? Because I have one of those names that no-one spells right! Even my Mum on occasion.  True story.

Countless times I have stood at counters going over the small details, and being a MacGregor just adds to the confusion. “small c? big G?”, “Is that a Mc or a Mac?”, ” With an I or a Y?”.  “Really?” I want to say. “Are we doing this again?, are you going to engrave it into something for LIFE, Does it really matter?”  Until now, it’s not been much fun.

I don’t think I’ve ever really been too fussed about the spelling of my name. aside from a brief moment when Kylie was everywhere and people got excited that I might be called Kylie too. So, as long as you pronounce it correctly, I’m good, and even then, if you get that wrong I’m far too polite to say, sorry it’s Karlie not Kylie, or Callie or Holly. I find that kind of thing funny. I guess at the end of the day, I know who I am and I’m not insecure enough to need your verification. call me what you want, sticks and stones and all that, it’s cool with me.

Someone said to me recently, “Little things please you don’t they?” (Luckily not my fella – phew!) and I have to agree, that yes, yes they do. Starbucks have ignited the minx in me a little. “Grande Caramel Macchiatto in a take away cup please”, “okay fab, can I take your name?”, “Karlie”, “Sorry?”, “Karlie”. Cue puzzled look and random scribble on cup.  I can’t wait to see what they come up with.

Like most writers, and other narcissistic people, I love to hear my name being said and I like to see it on things. While I still wait for it to be etched on the elusive awards and trophies, Starbucks cups are happily filling the gap. I would not say I take my coffee there more often, (I admit to being a cinnamon latte lover and as they don’t do it, I have to duck to Costa) However, when I’m casually passing a Starbucks (or making a 5 mile detour past one, passing,detouring, it’s all relative), I’m playing the name game and enjoying it while it lasts. My local Starbucks have already sussed me. One Barrista there caught me off guard when I told him that I was playing the game. “How do you spell it then?”, I told him and he laughed and said “got ya!”  Ever since then it’s been right. Dammit. First rule of Name Game – don’t tell them how to spell it. Second rule of Name Game – don’t trust men with twinkling eyes. (In fact make that one for life in general)

How does the name game fair in different cities? Different accents? In England, Scotland and Ireland my name is being said very differently, I’ve had a Curley and a Cauli, it’s so funny. So, Keep it up Starbucks, I’m loving the personal touch!