Starbucks Needs to Stop Taking Names
On Starbucks' Absurd Policy of Requiring Employees to Ask Customers for Their Names
As a preamble, it must be stressed that Starbucks can never receive a very high recommendation. Depending on location and what other venues are available, usually one can obtain better coffee and espresso elsewhere. That stated, in certain circumstances Starbucks offers convenience and familiarity and, particularly when someone is travelling or in an unfamiliar area, the infamous coffee chain can, in limited circumstances, offer a good enough solution for one’s coffee and espresso needs. One important caveat to this is, when ordering coffee, to always specify “dark roast,” lest the barista serve that Spülwasser swill known as “Pike Place Roast,” which has been the default drip for quite some time. With these important qualifications established, focus can be directed solely at the chain’s notorious and preposterous policy of “personalizing” each customer’s coffee or espresso by asking for that customer’s name and then writing the name on that customer’s cup of coffee, espresso, or other beverage.
This policy has created tension and controversy with both a sizeable contingent of customers and Starbucks employees alike. A cursory review of Internet searches with related terms reveals this subject comes across many different social media platforms, and does so fairly regularly. Particular points of contention include whether people use fake “Starbucks names,” what those fake names are, and whether someone is an “asshole” for either giving a fake name or refusing to provide a name at all. Starbucks employees have a variety of complaints, ranging from complaints about customers who do not want to give their name or make a big deal about giving a name, to complaints about how “corporate” enforces this policy with particular zeal and focus, tasking its wage slaves to do something that is both unnecessary and inefficient.
Despite those who insist this policy is sensible or not important, or otherwise excuse or condone it in this or that way, requiring baristas to ask each and every customer his name is inefficient, obnoxious, and intrusive. Very often when one orders coffee from a venue like Starbucks, he is in a hurry, either to go to work in the morning, on his way to or from a meeting or other engagement during the middle of the day, or is grabbing coffee while traveling, for example at an airport or a train station. Precious minutes and seconds count in all these circumstances. A far more efficient manner of keeping track of and dispensing with orders is the number system, as seen in many old-school delis, bakeries, butcher shops and the like, including a German specialty butcher shop this author patrons, favored for its offerings of authentic German Wurst and other cuts of beef and pork.
The “take a number” dispenser as featured in this photo collage offers a simple and proven alternative to this abject idiocy.
Beyond that, some, including yours truly, do not like strangers knowing their name, particularly when those strangers ask for a name but do not introduce themselves in kind. Perhaps some baristas comport themselves with customary manners by introducing themselves before asking the customer his name, but I for one have never experienced this, nor is it something that is exhibited in any way in any of the discussions or exchanges on social media—and if they did that would waste more time when most customers are in a hurry. Even if baristas conformed to basic customs in courtesy and manners, giving out someone’s name under such compulsion or pressure is still an imposition. It is particularly so when a barista, name unknown, asks for a name without providing a name in kind.
Those who rightly take umbrage with this absurd practice adopt different strategies as a response. Some simply tell the barista “you do not need my name, venti dark roast is my order.” Baristas have argued with me and other customers about this response, insisting they need a name. Even when they comply, arguing every time a person places an order for coffee or espresso when customers just want to get to where they are going becomes particularly exhausting.
This explains why many give out fake names. An internet search for “fake Starbucks name” shows how prevalent but also at times divisive this practice is. If one does choose this path of least resistance, it is advisable to use a name that is short, easy to spell, indeed cannot be misspelled, and is heard easily and in a unmistakable fashion in a crowded setting where a large number of customers are simply trying to place and then pick up their orders and get to where they need to be. “Burt” would be an excellent fake name, except that, insofar as there is an alternative spelling of “Bert” with an “e,” using this name would likely waste yet more time with follow up questions as to how the barista should spell “Burt,” with an “e” or a “u.” Spelling and misspelling of names is another controversy related to this practice. Because “Burt” will regularly invoke this added problem, “Pete” or “Peter” works well. “Keith,” “Tom,” ‘George,” “Bruce,” and ‘Ralph’ are all names that satisfy this purpose as well. Bob works well, but as readers can tell from my writing and demeanor, I would never consent to go by “Bob” if my name were “Robert.” Then again Robert is also simple to say and hear and does not have any spelling variations.
Women’s names that fit this purpose seem more limited, because so many female names have different ways of spelling them. “Laurie” and “Megan,” while nice names, are ill-suited to this purpose because there are so many different ways to spell these names. Kristen similarly has many spelling variants (Kristin, Crystin, and so on). Kat might seem like a good choice (a short but also sweet name), but too many baristas would be confused about the spelling, or ask to confirm spelling; is it with a “c” or a “k?” Even a really boring name like “Susan” might slow the process down with a request to confirm spelling (Is it spelled Susan, Susanne, and so on). “Rachel” is a decent name that entails no spelling variations or complications, as is “Kim.” Although not glamorous or nice sounding, “Sue” (but not Susan) also fits this purpose, and even works for male Johnny Cash fans or those, such as myself, who hail from a sordid, chaotic family background and forever consider themselves to be “A Boy Named Sue.”
In order to express defiance and resistance (if not outright resentment) of this absurd policy, customers can always resort to absurd names that are obviously not real. After arguing several mornings while away, I started telling the baristas to put down “the number eight” as my name. Some wonderfully ridiculous names like “Picadilly” or “Didgeridoo” might seem like a wonderful way to troll the whole ridiculous practice, but confusion or hesitation about spelling would almost certainly put a damper on such flippant answers. Answering “Captain Kangaroo” or “Starscream” would have much the same effect without complicating the order process with undue confusion. Answering “No Name” or “the man with no name” conveys a greater sense of defiance to this absurd policy. “Douglas P.” is a great name to covertly signal to any fellow Death in June fan that might be present that excellent taste in music is shared and make a friend in the process. Stating “Oscar the Grouch” is another overt way to express annoyance and disapproval of this whole tiresome charade, while the Sesame Street affiliation takes some edge off what might be perceived as overt hostility.
Aside from wasting time and imposing on customers an obligation to confide to strangers their names in asymmetrical fashion, where they provide their names without the barista offering a proper introduction in kind, providing a real name can make a customer vulnerable. This fascinating account by a data security advisor recounts how, because he saw a person’s first name written on a coffee cup while sitting on a commuter train to London, that expert, seeing evidence of that man’s employer on his laptop screen, was able to ascertain that commuter’s full name, the names of his teenage daughters, the name of his wife, when he married, and a plethora of other personal details. Details surrounding the person’s anniversary date and the birthday of his daughter even allowed the security expert to correctly guess certain passwords.
The imposition is not just on the customers. Being a barista is not a particularly easy or well-paying job. And yet Starbucks corporate policy insists on making their job that much more difficult with this absurd policy. Given that an employee taking orders likely encounters hundreds of customers in a single shift, this requirement is nothing less than corporate sado-masochism, a terrible hazing ritual that never ends as long as someone continues to work there. One stated purpose in having customers provide their names is that “customizing an order with each person’s name” makes it easier than recounting each customized espresso order, including specifications of a particular type of milk product, or an extra espresso shot, or any other number of ways that espresso orders in particular can be customized. All of that is addressed and ameliorated with far greater efficiency by the tried-and-true number system, as featured at the German butcher shop this author favors.
The requirement to ask a customer his name is not nearly as onerous as other schemes concocted by decision makers at the ubiquitious coffee chain. Years ago they briefly implemented a “race together” campaign, which encouraged (or coerced) starbucks employees to write #racetogether on beverage cups and even “asked employees to engage customers in conversations about the delicate subject.” The campaign was roundly mocked by almost every political faction imaginable.
Starbucks is not an outlier in implementing and enforcing policies coercing wage slave employees to feign completely artitificial engagement with the public. Many different retailers have imposed a “smile” policy on its employees. The gas station chain Sheetz recently rescinded this “smile” policy after the manner in which an employee abruptly quit because of it drew significant attention online. These policies walk a figurative tight-wire, as American customers (for some odd reason) react favorably to employees smiling, but this is pitted against many drawbacks:
Studies have shown that forcing workers to act friendly when they don’t feel friendly can lead to job burnout and depression. Forced smiles also tend to look phony, and ample research suggests that customers know, and don’t appreciate, a fake [smile] when they see one.
Such corporate overreach takes many other forms as well. “Chick-fil-a” famously compels each and every employee to respond to customers by saying “my pleasure.” It is this sort of absurd corporate policy imposed on low level employees that was so famously mocked in Office Space with the “pieces of flair” requirement that Joanna resented so much.
In many ways, this ludicrous policy of requiring baristsas to ask customers their names is typical of peculiar American norms that foolishly suppose that a fake smile or “personalizing” coffee and espresso orders makes such routine, mundane encounters more personal, when in fact such measures make these encounters the most impersonal of all. There is nothing more impersonal or alienating than something that feigns personalization, but does so in the exact same manner to one and all—whether it is a recorded message, an advertisement, or whatever the case may be. Just as advertisements for suicide hotlines or public service announcements for help with drug or alcohol abuse (or any number of horrible problems that regularly afflict people in this dystopic nightmare of a society) try to be personal with messages such as “you matter” or “people care about you,” such efforts could not be more impersonal and alienating.
So it is with this. The phenomenon Starbucks is trying to replicate or mimic with each and every transaction is the experience where a regular customer encounters the same individual over a period of time, and, over that course of time, a personal rapport or familiarity evolves, including exchange of names, some friendly banter when there is no hurry, and even exchange of certain personal details. But such rapport and personal familiarity happens organically over time. A poor imitation that is compelled by corporate directive from the top down is endearing to precious few.
As much as I or any sane, rational person implore Starbucks to implement the tried-and-true number system, readers can rest assured the next time they resort to Starbucks when in a pinch, either while travelling or in a hurry in an unfamiliar area or an area that does not offer equal or superior alternatives, a barista will ask for a name. Tell the barista “my name is Sue.” Or “Dieter.” One might say “Hans,” but probably not “Fritz” because many baristas would be uncertain of how to spell it, or ask for clarification. Or “Boris.” A customer might even respond by saying “sausages,” or “Batman,” or any other absurd and fairly obvious fake name. However one chooses to respond, just never give them a real name.
A special note, particularly to new subscribers and other readers unfamiliar with this publication. Readers may notice this essay is published “In the Wee Hours,” which features shorter essays and vignettes, usually “written in a more spontaneous fashion and in a more informal style than is characteristic of this publication, covering a wider range of topics, some more weighty than others.” There readers will find rants and diatribes denouncing the phoney smile and the filthy, digusting habit of gum-chewing, as well as other works concerning a variety of different matters.