Alright, I admit it. I have now been married to Ben for almost a year and I still haven’t legally changed my name. I decided a long time ago that that changing my name would be more of an aesthetic decision than a political one. Lucky for me, I always wanted a “Mc” name. I like the sound of it.
According to Gmail, Facebook, and my dry cleaner, my name is McAllister. The kids at school call me Mrs. McAllister – do you get more married than that? It just seems like such a hassle to get the copies of our marriage certificate and deal with Social Security, the DMV, the bank, American Express, Time Warner, AT&T, etc., etc.
This weekend I slipped up while ordering a burger at Mighty Fine. They asked for my name and I spelled it out as I always do: E-L-I-Z-A. But then the squirrely woman at the counter asked for my last initial. “P,” I replied automatically. Oops. Good thing Ben was there to correct me and remind me that my last name is, in fact, Price because I still haven’t changed it.
Did she really need to ask? How many Elizas could there have been in the joint? It’s not that obscure of a name these days, but it still causes plenty of fast food confusion. When Ben and I first met, a woman at an Atlanta Starbuck’s wrote “Shaliza” on my coffee cup. Ben still calls me that sometimes.
Here is my cup from my latest Atlanta Starbuck’s visit. Is my accent really that thick?