Do you want to know how I can make basic social interactions anxiety-provoking? Let me tell you about today!

This morning I went to get bagels at a place near my house. When I’m about half a block away, I see that the person running the register is the older woman who I think is the bagel shop owner’s mom.

Before the pandemic, when I would go to get bagels there and see her at the register, I would silently begin praying to sweet little manger baby Jesus that the timing would work out so I wouldn’t have to order from her. Not because you would tell her your order and then you’d have to start over from the beginning because she couldn’t find where the first thing you said was on the ordering screen. But because when you place an order, they ask for your name. And every time I ordered from her we would have the exact same conversation.

Her: Can I get your name?
Me: Stacey
Her: Is that with an E?
Me: Yes.
Her: My daughter-in-law’s name is also Stacy, but she spells it without the E and she’s very particular about it, so I always ask if it’s E or no E.

Now, the first few times, I was like – ok sure, thanks, that’s considerate. Although honestly who the shit cares because you’re just calling out the name so it’s not like I’ll know the difference anyway?

And then the next few times I thought – surely she is not having this conversation with so many people here that she doesn’t recognize me at this point? Does she know we have had this exact same conversation 10 times already…? Am I living inside of Groundhog Day?

So today as I’m walking up, I see it’s only her at the register and I know that I am not in the mood to have this conversation again. Especially because since the pandemic started, I am basically living in Groundhog Day anyway and this may be the thing that pushes my increasingly fragile psyche over the edge.

I get in line behind three other people and start frantically thinking about how I am going to avoid this situation:

Just give her another name!
Yes! Ok, you are so brilliant!
So… what name should I give her?
Uhhhh… Ann. I’ll say my name is Ann.
Hrmmm…. but will she understand what I’m saying through the mask? Maybe Ann is too misunderstandable?
Right, no, not Ann. What else what else what else? Maria! I’ll tell her my name is Maria.
But like… do I really look like a Maria…? Will she think I’m saying Marie?
No no, not Maria. Rachel! That’s perfect. Rachel is clear and understandable. I could be a Rachel.
Ok, so when she asks for my name, say Rachel!

So I get up to the front of the line and place my order (two everything bagels and a tub of rainbow veggie cream cheese and yes that is just for me), and she asks for my name.

St… [bitch no! we rehearsed this!]… Rachel….

Phew! That was a close one!

But then as I swipe my card, I remember that sometimes on those machines your name automatically gets pulled up, so I start panicking. Is she going to see Stacey come up on her screen and wonder why I said Rachel? And then think this isn’t my card? And then it will become a whole thing?!

Thankfully, she doesn’t say anything about it and I get to move into the line where I wait for them to call my name. Another sigh of relief!

So I am standing over to the side congratulating myself for executing this plan so well, and then I’m like —

…the fuck name did I end up giving her…?