not the braun, not the brains either

Friday, nov. 1, 2002   |   0 comments

I called in an order at Big Mouth burger and told them my name was Eva because “Evany” tends to be too time consuming to explain over the phone, what with people thinking it’s “Ebony” even after I spell it out.

When I picked up my food, the guy behind the counter was all, “Eva, that’s a pretty name.”

Another, less hungry me, the one who compulsively tells movie theater employees in the conspiratorial tone of someone sharing a welcome secret, “you know I … I used to work in a theater,” that Evany would have tried to explain, “actually, it’s ‘Eh-vah-knee’” followed by some squirmingly long confession involving nervous giggles and V-shaped hand gestures. But I just said, “thanks,” and immediately felt guilty for taking credit for someone else’s pretty name.

Then the burger man said, “You know Hitler’s girlfriend?”

“Who,” I said, “Eva Braun?”

“Yeah!” And he smiled and nodded at me as though pointing out that I shared the same name as the woman who slept with the most heinous figure in history was a nice, friendly gesture. Not that my name’s Eva. It’s Evany. But still.

So I gave him a modified “confused ‘whatever’” face (modified because dude, I want to keep getting turkeyburgers there) and just said, “huh,” and turned to leave.

“How come you don’t you pronounce it that way?” he called after me.

I stopped and turned half way out the door. “What?”

“It’s supposed to be ‘ay-vah’, not ‘eee-vah’.”

“I don’t know,” I sighed. “That’s just how, uh, my mom always said it.”

See? People can’t even pronounce my fake name, which I selected because my real one is too difficult to pronounce. And it makes people think of Hitler.

Once again (remember my “not too full” latte scheme?), one of my ingenious shortcuts turns out to be more of a longcut. A long, deep cut.