His Full Name
What's in a name, anyhow?
For at least the last six months, Kendrick had been visiting Louisa’s Deli Café for his lunch. It was a quiet, out of the way place to eat and collect his thoughts. Occasionally, he’d bring his yellow notepad and jot down ideas and projects he’d been working on.
The café had great sandwiches and off brand soft drinks. And their bacon ranch potato salad was worth the trip alone. They all, of course, came at a heftier than normal total at the cash register. After ordering and shoving his credit card into the reader, the screen asked him if he wanted to tip, if he wanted a receipt, how would he like to receive the receipt, and did he want to sign up for café updates and coupons. After tapping No No No No to everything, he signed the screen with his finger – which equated to a variation of his actual signature, he could sit down while they prepared his order.
Kendrick struggled at the register in these types of places because, yes, someone from the kitchen brought out the food, but he still had to get his own silverware, drink, napkins, and condiments. They only brought out the food. He hated tapping “No Tip” but these days, what with the prices of sandwiches, it was his go-to option.
As he pondered this dilemma at the table, one of the kitchen people brought out his food. After about three bites, the cashier came over to him.
Without any other introduction or lead in, she asked, “What is your first and last name?”
Well, this is different, Kendrick thought. Is this their way of signing me up for their newsletter?
“Uh,” he said, scrambling for something more coherent. “What exactly do you ….”
“Sir, what is your first and last name?”
“Uh, Kendrick Gates.”
The cashier smiled, looked at the credit card she had purposely hidden behind her back, verified the name, and handed him his credit card.
“Oh man, thanks.”
“You left it in the machine,” she said. “Thought you might like to use it again today. Just saving you the trip back.”
“Thanks. Thank you kindly. Yes, I would’ve figured it out eventually.”
On second thought, maybe I’ll just leave a tip on the table instead.
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