Don’t Be A Queen About It

(It’s nearing the end of the night and there’s the usual rush of customers trying to pay for their purchases before the store closes. One of my managers has yet to learn my name, Kathryn.)

Manager: “Kathy, can you go help [Coworker] on registers?”

(There’s a long pause because I initially don’t realize he’s talking to me.)

Me: “Hey, [Manager], do you mean Kathryn?”

Manager: “Queen of England, can you go help on registers?”

Me: “Not a problem, [Manager].”

(About twenty minutes later, once the store has closed, I approach the returns area to begin after-hours recovery only to find my manager’s there.)

Manager: “Hey there, Kathleen, you wanna start with that pillow filler?”

Me: “My name’s Kathryn. Would it make it easier if you used my middle name?”

Manager: “What’s your middle name?”

Me: “[My Middle Name].”

Manager: “Okay, whenever we’re on at the same time I’ll just call you [Middle Name].”

(Not even a half-hour later he is calling for me by saying ‘Queen of England’ over the store walkie-talkies.)