My nemesis...

Now I'm sure many people have various frustrations in their lives. I have quite a few. These aren't things that are particularly important, but more just little gripes. My top 10 list includes people who eat too loudly (or with any volume level whatsoever), people who eat too loudly on the train, people who eat too loudly in the office, people who eat too loudly on their own at home on a Friday night... Ok, a bit too far on that one perhaps. Those stupid meerkats, anyone who declares friend culls on Facebook, anyone who believes that liking a photo will cure an affliction or save the world, people who can't use apostrophes... I'm thinking that this is probably going to be a post all by itself so will stop there, but you get the idea.

And as if the universe is determined to kick me in the imaginary nuts this Friday... As I started to write this on the train to London, a man next to me just pulled out an apple and has started to attack it in what can only be akin to a tiger trying to peel a banana with its molars whilst chomping down on a tennis racquet covered in glass. This usually causes instant (suppressed) rage in me, but I'll try and refrain from murdering him in cold blood as I'm pretty sure, as irritating as it is, that it won't hold up in court. But seriously. It's like someone's breaking legs over there.

Anyway... This post is supposed to be about my war with Starbucks. It's not, as you might think, an attack on the recent tax discussions, nor is this a post about me standing up for the independent retailer and condemning the coffee giant for killing small cafe businesses in my local area. No, this is about one thing and one thing only...

The names on the cups.

Now, if like me you have a fairly unusual name you'll be used to people spelling it incorrectly and will probably, genuinely, not be too bothered by this. I'll admit that I do get a little bit twitchy when people shorten my name from “Lynnette” to “Lynne”. We once had a game in our office called "Lyncognito" where my colleagues would try to get away with calling me it. My reasoning is that I wouldn't go into a meeting with a David and open up with “Alright Dave?” for example, but really it's not that big a deal and I even turn the other cheek in countries where it's culturally the 'thing to do' - shortening names. I know, I'm practically a UN Ambassador sometimes. However, I do think that most languages have been designed as such that it's possible to break down a word and usually get pretty close to how you spell it. Typos are fine. They happen. I don't mind a typo when people are busy and just getting some thoughts down in a quick email or note (I'm definitely trying to cover myself here) but if you try and concentrate on spelling something, usually you can work it out and get pretty close. It's how we learn how to read and write and talk after all. And if my 6 year old nephew managed it..? I think you get the point I'm trying to make.

For starters. Here's how it's supposed to be spelt. This was written by the lovely hands of Natalie in Times Square, NYC. She had a cousin with the same spelling. Not a day goes by when I don't dream of Natalie and thank her for restoring my faith in the ear to pen co-ordination of a Starbucks Barista.

There are a few discrepancies that I'll allow for. The one 'n' v.s. two 'ns', for example. My parents really were trying to test me when they decided to put an extra one in on the off chance of me wanting to be called “Lynne”. Thanks folks. But anyway. On this fine Friday when the sun is shining, the weekend is around the corner and all is pretty rosy in the grand ol' scheme of things, here are my top 10 Starbucks faux pas...

No. 10: Next to the Sir Francis Drake Hotel in Union Square, San Francisco. I blamed this one on the accent...

No. 9: Opposite Churchill Square in Brighton, England. The most common misspelling with the one 'n', but I'm not sure of many names that feature a “u” and a “y” together.

No. 8: Oops. Tripped up a little here so went back to correct themselves. Personally I'd have used a different cardboard sleeve and covered up the whole embarrassing situation.

No. 7: The opposite to no. 9. Overcompensating in its finest.

No. 6: This, to me, is just lazy. Conduit Street, London.

No. 5: Lingt? Linet? I'd like to assure you at this point that I don't have a verbal slur. I also have a Facebook share to blame for me now being in at least one of my friends' phone books as “LINGT”.

No. 4: Cobham Services, M25. That moment when you know something's not right, but you can't quite put your finger on it...

No. 3: Appreciate the love, Starbucks, but you're still wrong.

No. 2: I can assure you, I said nothing of the sort.

And my all time no. 1 so far... I Googled this immediately afterwards and no, it isn't a name.

So, there you have it. Not a big thing and arguably I should just try Costa Coffee or Cafe Nero or buy my own coffee machine and stop wasting money on having someone make it for me, but it's become a little amusement in my life and thought it might brighten your day. Have a good one.