I always forget I wear a nametag at work. It’s become such a part of my before work routine. Sure, it’s part of my uniform, but I never really notice it. Until I forget it. Of course, my boss lets me know that too.
It’s just, I’m sure I get an odd look on my face when people call me by name. (I know it happened at Subway the first few times, until I remembered I never take off my nametag until I leave work for the day). Of course, parents will comment to their sons when we share the same name (how common is Ben, anyway?). I just don’t think I’ll get used to people knowing my name when I don’t know theirs.
Is this what it feels like to be a celebrity?
I hope not. Sometimes people seem to think that by using my name, it’s like name-dropping, and I can or will automatically give them a better deal (of course, if they’re good-looking, I might…er…I mean…). Others just use it to appear friendly, I think. I just never really know.
And then there are the people who ask me my name to thank me for helping them. Maybe it’s so they won’t forget. Or, perhaps, they didn’t notice the nametag. Either way, I hope I don’t smirk before answering them.
Of course, the oddest to me is the people who call the store and ask for my name. As if, by knowing me, they’ll get a better deal or prove that what they’re saying has merit. I just hope they don’t come in and pretend I told them something I didn’t (“your word against mine” arguments never end well for me).
Maybe I should just get a new nametag with “Eugene” written on it. That way, it will always be Eugene’s fault, but when corporate investigates, they’ll discover that no Eugene actually works at the store (of course, now that I’ve revealed my plot, I’ll have to use a different name; maybe Albert…dang it).