Names

This morning I walked in to Saxby's, half-awake, for my low fat bran muffin- a frequent morning routine of mine. Today I noticed the man in front of me in line was disabled, possibly homeless. He ordered his coffee, handed the cashier his Saxby's Coffee Cash Card, then said, "thanks, Sam" to the man making his coffee. It was a kind exchange, and so simple, yet striking because when do you ever hear someone behind the counter called by name? It made me wonder their history and how much they know about each other. But really, how much do you need to know about someone to give them the simple courtesy of calling them by name?

It is something my grandfather always does, actually. He makes sure to get his waiter's name when he sits down at a restaurant, and only calls them by name-- none of this "Miss" or "Sir" stuff-- instead, he acknowledges their identity, their humanness, with appreciation.