As explained in my post “I Am Sam”, I hate my full first name, which is why I was upset when I kept seeing it on the door duty list earlier this year. A couple days after that blog was posted, I did go to HR and the assistant manager over my area to explain the situation and they completely understood and remedied the situation.
But I can’t go to HR when I have to field questions about the name on my badge from curious boomer customers who have no boundaries or common sense.
“Hmmm…Sam? Is that short for Samantha?”
“Thank you…er…Sam? I’m guessing that’s short for Samantha.”
“Sam…must be short for Samantha. That’s a beautiful name!”
“Sam? Samantha, right?”
“Did your parents want a boy and named you Sam or is it actually short for Samantha?”
It’s like these old people see my badge and think it reads: SAMantha?
Yes, it’s always older people that bring it up. I wonder if it’s because we live in a time where transgender people are more accepted and the younger people understand it is not cool to dead name people regardless of gender or if older people think they can do whatever the fuck they want because of their age without giving a shit about how it affects people.
It wouldn’t be good customer service to point at my badge and say, “Can you fucking read? If I wanted to go by ‘Samantha’, it would be on my fucking badge!” Instead, I smile politely and say in my Pinkie Pie customer service voice, “Nope! Just ‘Saaaaam’!” and watch their brains short circuit from the mental gymnastics that occur trying to process that it’s not “Samantha”.
The “Samantha” inquiries would only be a minor annoyance if it weren’t for the fact my full first name is associated with emotional and mental abuse from a parent. Even if the intention was ultimately harmless, fielding these questions unfortunately result in nightmares due to my anxiety-ridden brain absorbing everything like a sponge and apparently giving that sponge to my imagination when I go to sleep…because of course those will be the nights I have zero problem with my insomnia and sleep through the nightmare.
But honestly, it really shouldn’t be that hard to look at someone’s name badge and go, “Okay. That’s their name!”
(And now I’ve written “Samantha” so many times in this blog post that it sounds weird.)