WHAT IS YOUR NAME?

I took my 16 year old grandson, Noah, for a test drive today on the expansive parking lot of a local community college; the same stretch of asphalt where I taught his mother to drive in the mid-90's. Afterwards, we headed to Arby's to buy one of their new "Classic Cheesesteak" sandwiches.

Donning our masks, we stepped out of the car, and walked into the front door of the restaurant. Noah proceeded to sit down in a booth, and I stepped to the counter to order.

The cashier behind the plexiglass, (almost) Corona-proof barrier spoke to me in a somewhat muffled voice, and through her own heavy black mask.

"Hello Sir, what can I get for you?"

To which I responded with my order.

She continued,

"And what is (indistinguishable word, indistinguishable word)?"

To which I answered,

"I'm sorry. What was that?"

She tried again.

"What is (indistinguishable word, indistinguishable word)?"

By this time I was a bit embarrassed, and now I responded with,

"I'm sorry I don't understand. You'll have to yell at me."

And suddenly, this little wisp of a twenty something year old girl shouted with a voice that shook the ground, rattled the windows, caused several pigeons to flutter from the roof, and might well have summoned George Washington from the grave...

"WHAATT ISSS YOOUR NAMMME!!!"

If you see a bedraggled old guy, who looks strikingly like the portrait on a one dollar bill, walking around in a "somewhat worse for the wear" Revolutionary War uniform, tell him it's okay to go back to sleep.

By William McDonald, PhD. Copyright pending