Dear Sophia,
I love you. It was maybe the first time ever today there was a moment I was glad I wasn’t with you.
I got to Starbucks a bit late. My body was still recovering from the last couple of days. I felt great but my body had been through a lot of ups and downs. If things go up and down a bit my brain goes up and down a bit too and then my body goes up and down and then when my brain gets better again it takes my body a while to catch up.
It was pretty busy by the time I got there. It usually gets busier as the morning goes on. That’s one of the reasons I like to get there early and make sure I get my seat. Luckily there was a big group of people around a table near the window who had taken a bunch of seats from the other tables. It meant you couldn’t really see my normal seat unless you already knew it was there.
Most people don’t like to sit on their own anyway. If they can’t see somewhere obvious to sit people just tend to walk out with their drinks. I never understood that really. I never felt the drinks at Starbucks were any better than anything you get anywhere else. If you go somewhere else to drink you might as well get something to drink from somewhere else.
I ordered my drink. They took my name and said it would be a few minutes. I took my coat off and put it over the back of my chair so nobody would sit in it when I got up.
After a couple of minutes I heard the barista guy call out Andy. I assumed it was someone else. He called again and nobody moved. He said Andy again. I looked up and he was looking right in my direction. It was the guy who had taken my name down. It had only been a couple of minutes and apparently he could remember what I looked like. He couldn’t remember my name though. It was stupid. My name is Andrew. That’s what I told him. Andrew. He either wrote down Andy or can’t read his own writing.
I bet he thought Andy sounded more friendly. I bet he knows someone else who likes being called Andy and thought it would be a good thing to do with me too. Which is stupid. That’s not my name. That’s not what my mum called me. It’s not friendly to change someone’s name for them and to call them something else. It’s incredibly rude. That’s why you should never let anyone call you Soph. It sounds awful. Your name is Sophia and that’s what you should be called. Sophia captures you. You are Sophia. I am Andrew and that’s what I should be called.
When I was younger I remember there was a player for Manchester United called Andrew Cole. He told everyone that he wanted to be called Andrew Cole instead of Andy Cole. I think he heard commentators on T.V calling him Andy instead and didn’t like it. It made me really happy. I liked it a lot. For my next birthday I asked for a football shirt with his number on. My mum got it for me. It was red and had a number nine and Cole on the back. I never wore it. I wanted a shirt with Andrew on it. I didn’t want another name on my clothes. That was the whole point. I wanted my name. I wanted Andrew.
I guess he probably doesn’t play football anymore. That was ages ago now. My mum started telling people I liked Manchester United because I had a Manchester United shirt. I hated that. It was putting pressure on me for no reason at all. People would laugh at me if they lost. Like it was my fault. I don’t like being blamed for things that aren’t my fault. I never liked football. I still remember Andrew Cole though.
I was glad you didn’t have to wait for your drink as long as I did. I know I would have seen you for longer but if you’d had the same guy serve you he might have called you something other than Sophia. That would have made me really angry. I hope they got your drink right for you.
I love you.
Yours,
Andrew