After two days of this, I decided to go in and say my name was 'Voldemort,' which would have been the first in a hilarious series that I'd turn into a blog post. But it was too early and I was too sleepy to do it properly. So I told the super-gay barista that my name was Andrew (because it is). He gave me a queer smile (both meanings), stamped my loyalty card twice and wrote my name in his flirtiest handwriting:
So now instead of giving silly names and taking photos of the cups for YOUR amusement, I'm going to call myself 'Angel,' act gay and try to get free drinks until I'm too fat to be attractive to the gay baristas.
At which point, I'll quit getting Chai Lattes again.