Starbucks (totally) delivers

I stopped by Starbucks today, thinking I'd treat myself to a mocha.

My heart started to race when the girl behind the counter asked for my name.

See, there are thousands of photos on flickr that evidence the butchering of names Starbucks' baristas write on cups. But no one has EVER asked for my name. I've even been to stores where the line extends near the door. They just seem to muddle through in order while people quietly wait their turn. No one ever jumps line and snags a drink that wasn't meant for to them despite the missing name, misspelled or not.

But here I was. ... the ONLY person in line and they were asking for my name.

Finally! I get to upload a photo of my name butchered on a wax-lined cup!

Then the air came out of my sails. She asked how I spell it.

I spelled it out: S. I. O. B. H. A. N.



When I saw the V where the B should be, I swear-to-god, it made my day.


*I'm still at it ... a picture a day for the next year. Check out my progress here.