(The scene: Chaat Cafe, last night. I’m at the counter with my boyfriend, ordering dinner. This time, instead of italics being in Chinese like in previous posts, italics signify a heavy, heavy Indian accent.)
Ernie: Hi, one chicken pesto stuffed naan and a chicken tikka dinner please, to go.
Woman at the counter: Okay. What’s your name?
Ernie: Ernie.
Woman: What?
Ernie: Ernie.
Woman: Ornie?
Ernie: Ernie.
Woman: ORRNIE? [flashes Ernie a dirty look]
Ernie: … yes.
Woman: Hrm. [writes my name down, hands it to chef]
After paying with my credit card, I open up my wallet and look for some cash to put in the tip jar. Since I only have bills above $10, I decide I’m not that generous and put my wallet back in my pants, only for the woman cashier to notice and give yet another glare of death. “I think she hates me,” I say to Mike.
So, I’m sitting in one of the benches marked for to-go customers, taking in the ambiance; there are framed pictures of Bollywood stars, and the restaurant is still filled with mostly Indian patrons, a promising sign of knowing whether the restaurant is going to be good or not. (As opposed to a restaurant that has a name like, say, “Rick and Mollys House of Sushi.” Right?) Although I find it funny that the Indian chef calls out for the name “Horny” for a to-go order. What kind of Indian name is Horny?
The chef repeats the name again. “HORNY?” on the giant microphone. Except this time he is looking straight at me.
Now at this point, I’m not necessarily thinking he’s trying to say the word “horny” – I’m thinking the cashier wrote the name “Ornie” and he’s just pronouncing the name a little differently because he’s not from America and it’s like the game Telephone, when you sit around a circle with your 12-year old friends and you giggle as the phrase “The love of Jesus surrounds me” turns into “I fucked arugula on a pony,” so I’m telling myself that it’s cool, no harm, no foul.
And only THEN do I look down on the receipt. And there under the order, written in large letter with a giant BIC pen, do I see my name spelled the following way:
H-O-R-N-E-Y.
I look over to the cashier in horror. She’s helping another customer, oblivious.
Let’s stop time right here. At that moment, I figure I could do one of two things: Mike hasn’t seen the receipt yet. I can grab the dinner and run, run for Mexico where no one will ever know about this somewhat awkard moment and live my life in semi-anonymity with sea lions and Tijuana hookers. Or, I could tell Mike and he could give me shit for the rest of the night.
Eh, what the fuck. It’s blog-fodder.
Ernie, to Mike: (look at the receipt. look what she wrote as my…)
Mike: HOLY SHIT!(Ernie and Mike run out of Chaat Cafe, hoping the chef doesn’t do anything embarassing, like holding up a can of soda and screaming “HORNY, YOU FORGOT YOUR DRINK” while 30 Indians point and laugh)
At least the chicken tikka dinner was delcious. All it cost was a couple of dollars and MY SOUL.
Embrace the name, mine is so much more bizarre. I’m compared to Crack Addicted, DUI-ridden, washed-up actors (if you know my real name this will totally make sense). The only way people remember it is if I relate this fact.
Hahaha, that’s hilarious.
I love it when people with heavy accents get pissed off at us (American citizens) when we can’t understand them. As if it is our fault that we weren’t born and raised in their holy land. Rat bastards.
Sometimes, just to piss people off, I break out into a heavy accent, and tell them I’m trying to get back to my “roots”.
A French friend of mine’s last name is “Horny”. He has the same kind of fun you had every time he’s asked is name in the US…
I couldn’t stop laughing when I was reading your post. Good job.
BTW, I am an Indian too
lol, thats hilarious!!
You could always change your name. How about Bill?
After my brother and me ordered a shuttle from JFK, we knew it was our turn when the woman announced over the intercom: “Shuttle for.. shuttle for.. I can’t pronounce that name.” I’d expected that in New York, people would be used to seeing unusual spellings.
Dude. Why didn’t you give them Mike’s name? (From the department of “Obvious in Retrospect.”)
lol – it could have been worse I guess.. well.. maybe not.. but funny all the same..
Even though I don’t dislike my name, I take advantage of restauant situations like that to use names I like that aren’t mine. My g.f. always shoots me a weird look when I give names like Gretta, Helen and Margot.
Had I been in that restaurant, and heard your name as Horney, then see you run out of the restaurant, I might have said…
Those two must be really, REALLY, Horny.
But that’s just me. I like that restaurant. Can’t wait to move to Fremont and hang out with you!
Hahaha I have a major problem when being called at the doctors or official places where they get my name from my ID card: I have quite an unusual name, but have actually a ‘Luisa’ in front that I do *not* use. So seeing the name, nurses, police officers (oops!)… ehm, anyone calls out ‘Luisa Martin’, being loads of people with that combination, instead of Aurea Martin, so I either totally ignore them, or jump up every time some Luisa is called for!!!
i must say, i can always count on your posts to make me laugh like none other. =]
You could always go the shorter route–how about Knee or Ern?
What’s ever worse is that she mispelled horny. Unless she was just reading your mind.
Heh. Too funny. I like to use He-Man, personally… Cuz then you walk up to the counter looking all tough… He-Man likes sandwich.
I dunno regarding names of restaurants Ern…Ray’s Sushi in Hayward is da bomb!
Is Ray a Japanese name?
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA
Oh man, Horney, that was a good one. Oh man, so good for me. Was it good for you, Mr. Horney?
OMG…That was the best. Thanks, Horney. That’s what all the trendy Filipinos will now call you at the Christmas party.
uh…ernie…er…mr. horney…
you shouldn’t have let that funny kitty out of its bag…because we may have to start calling you H O R N E Y from now on….
strictly for laughs mind you…he he he…
Hmm, if you say it really fast, “Horney Hsiung” sounds like “Cornish Hen”
Hmm, that provides absolutely no consolation. Sorry.
A story that cracked me up
little. yellow. different. why i hate my name. again. I subscribe… err… syndicate this blog because it is pretty funny. And, this, my friends, is a funny story….
Rock on. And I didn’t even know there was such a thing as chicken pesto stuffed naan. I’ll have to try that.
It could be worse. The dean of our library has the last name Horny. I have heard her explain to people on the phone that it really is her name.
http://library.smsu.edu/general/welcome.shtml
That is incredibly funny but I know how you feel. I used to give people my real name for carry out orders till a Chicago pizzeria came up with man-who-eats-shit from Madhujit and I decided enough was enough. Now I am Mark for everyone!
Hahaha Horny – sorry – ERNIE, that was hilarious. I don’t think I’ve laughed harder at anything else in your blog (not even your crazy adorable Chinese Momma). You should make a skin to commemorate such an event – I’m dying to see “about horny” at the top of the page.
that’s hilarious but that STILL does not beat some of the mail sent to me addressed to “Hay Hoo” “May Moo” and the killer….”Gay Goo.”
You mean that isn’t how you pronounce your name?
Oh, poor Horney. You poor thing… The whole “Selleck-like-Tom” thing is kind of fun, but I just don’t know if I could handle being called Horney. Now excuse me while I go wipe the tears of laughter from my eyes…
I think I’ll go into the one in San Jose today, and give them the name “Ernie” and see how they do with it. Of course, my name isn’t Ernie and I’m not even a boy, but that makes no nevermind.
I’ve got a funny surname… DING…and eveyrhwere i go there are people who will start singing the nursery rhyme… DING DONG BELL, pussy in the well… except, they always emphasize the ‘pussy’. nothing beats yours, though, have to say…
Never laughed so hard at a blog entry in my entire blog life!! THANK YOU!!
Never laughed so hard at a blog entry in my entire blog life!! THANK YOU!!
Maybe the cashier just wrote her feelings toward you at that moment. you never know.
She was definitely worried about your choice of food. Poor chicken.
Well, Mr. Horney, you know that you have to change the name of your blog now!
At least when they look at your name (even though you’ve double & triple checked its accuracy), they don’t assume that “Shereen” is your last name and “Mark” is your first, then get confused when a woman answers to “Mark”.
I just want to scream: I’M A WOMAN DAMN IT!
But it -is- kind of funny when they see my last name “Mark” and assume I’m white… then they get a huge shocker that I turn out to be Asian.. like I lied with my last name or something stupid.
Stupid person: “Why isn’t your last name ‘Cheng’ or ‘Wong’?”
Me: “Well, why isn’t -your- last name ‘Ass’ or ‘Penis’?”
Great story! I almost wet my pants!
People mispronounce my surname all the time, but nothing as hilarious as that ever happened to me.
Excellent story Ernie! I normally get the “but what’s your first name?” treatment. And that billy connolly joke really does my head in.
Reminda me of the time that my ex wife left a pizza to be picked up under the name “beaver”. The people behind the counter cracked up when I came in to pick up.
That was hysterical what happened to you. You must relish moments like these, you know!!!
http://azura.modblog.com/?show=blogview&blog_id=233042
u’ve been copied
http://azura.modblog.com/core.mod?show=blogview&blog_id=233042#213160 –> Is this another blog entry written by you? Or what? 0.o
http://azura.modblog.com/core.mod?show=blogview&blog_id=233042#213247
check this site. i think someone copied ur entry.
when I say my name, Arlene, people sometimes here Ernie. No Lie!!We all have crazy stories!!
N-Names
And I thought people spelled my name wrong…….
well, came over to tell you about the whole “you’ve probably been majoriy plagiarised” thing but I guess some of my site readers got here first…
cheers~
I love it… once again… coffee spit all over my monitor from laughing so hard…
Who plagiarized who??!!?? This is so unethical. *shakes head*
I have a friend named Clay who has a similar problem. Every time he orders take-out and is asked for his name, they never understand it. It is very frustrating for him, but very funny for everyone else in the room.
It usually goes something like this:
Take Out Dude: Name?
Clay: Clay.
TOD: Gary?
Clay: No, its Clay.
TOD: John?
Clay: No, no, its Clay!
TOD: Richard?
Clay: Sure, why not?
If you’ve ever seen Goodness Gracious Me… you might’ve seen the sketch where the actors are trying to say “Jonathan”. Similar to your situation really.