Bred

We all have petty annoyances in life. Right?

Well, perhaps you don’t. I SURE do.

Emphasis being on the word ‘petty’.

I hate, hate, hate it when the drive through person at Starbucks asks for my name to put on the cup. It happens so rarely that they must not really need it. But when it does happen I’m not really sure what gets my back up but the rage seethes.

I wonder if it is because they always misspell it.

Jerry being complex.

Often the voice will cackle back through the electronic system and ask ‘Jarred?’ for confirmation.

I always say ‘sure’.

Other times when I eventually get my coffee I notice weird spellings of Jerry. Gerry. Jeri. Gerri. You get the picture.

It doesn’t matter one bit. It isn’t as if I am in Ukraine with bombs raining down on me. But for that brief moment it is me against the world.

If Paul happens to be in the car with me as I go through the drive through he always dares me to give them a fake name if they ask. I guess this is the ultimate act of rebellion in his mind.

Recently I was egged on by him to the point that I blurted out ‘FRED’ when I finally inched froward enough to order through the speaker and was asked for my name.

When I finally got my coffee this is what it said.

Apparently even a fake name was too much to handle.