The lady at the coffee place where I get coffee about half the week now remembers me and almost remembers my order. That's nice.

You are the anti-me. And that's not a size dig. I don't give the Coffee Bean person my first name, but my last (though one cheerfully remembers it and greets my by it) and I vary my order anyway. I would like them to remember that when I say "regular tea latte in a large cup" I want extra space not extra milk, but other than that...back off the familiarity.

I'm not the sort of person that thrives on being a regular. In fact, one of the cashiers said "Oh! You always get the same thing!" and seemed taken aback when I denied it.

Oh I don't want any familiarity aside from them knowing my order(since it does not change except for size). No trying to chat with me, no asking my name, no no no. I stopped going to a regular place in this neighborhood because my bagel guy attempted to get chatty.

{{{Allyson}}}

So sorry to hear about your grandfather.

I stopped going to a regular place in this neighborhood because my bagel guy attempted to get chatty.

That sounds more like my msbelle.

They ask names at the Bean so they can call them out to get the orders picked up. Every now and again they ask for my first name instead, and when I give it to them they usually just go with the surname. If they pronounce my first name wrong, I probably won't realise they're calling me.

I stopped going to one comic store because somehow I let slip to the strange old guy that I did the martial arts and he wanted to cast me in a movie he was working on.

Been there, done the ick. Haven't been back the store.

My replacement comic book place kinda disturbs me because once I got my pull list every guy behind the desk automatically knows which bag to grab for me as I walk in the door. Despite me never having, oh, seen them before.

The only thing I'm really a regular about is cigarettes, and most places I've lived, the local deli person remembers what I smoke. Not this guy -- not only do I have to tell him what it is every time, I have to direct him to the right pack. It's weird to me.

After working at his new job only a week, the workers at the huge federal office building coffee shop start prepping my former officemate's coffee order as soon as they see him enter the building. I told him it's a defensive measure.because he looks so grumpy before his coffee.

The truth is probably that such service makes for good job security, cause my former officemate just can't look scary. He's one of those teddy bear people.

They ask names at the Bean so they can call them out to get the orders picked up. Every now and again they ask for my first name instead, and when I give it to them they usually just go with the surname. If they pronounce my first name wrong, I probably won't realise they're calling me.

I know more than one person who regularly gives a fake name in this kind of situation, for one reason or another.

So, Love Monkey may have been cancelled, but the kid singer seems to be doing OK -- I heard his song on the radio yesterday, and now it's on MTV.

I didn't realize he was a real singer. He reminded me at times of a prettier version of an old friend of mine.

I stopped going to a regular place in this neighborhood because my bagel guy attempted to get chatty.

I was surprised when the magazine shop guy called me a Farmer's market regular one Saturday morning. Then we ran into each other at the drug store a few days later and had to acknowledge each other.

Usually I like being a regular, as it results in better service and some friendly chatter if I'm dining alone. But the new waiter at my favorite restaurant really creeped me out recently with the excess familiarity and a rambling New-Agey monologue in place of reasonably timed service and getting me my check in the looooong minutes I was waiting.

There's a 7-11 that has my order bagged and rung up by the time I enter the shop. I used to try rotating shops because it freaked me out, but I gave up. They call me by name now.