Where everyone knows your name

Being that I moved around so much as a kid, it is still a novel thing for me to have lived in an area for long enough that the locals know and recognize you. This is great, but if every employee at the McDonalds down the street knows you, then you might want to re-evaluate your dining habits.

For me, I love going to Pig 'n Chik. They know me by name. In fact, they call out my name when I come in. I love bringing family and out-of-town visitors there. What is slightly embarrassing is the fact that they remember back to a period in time where I was a fan of their buffalo chicken wings. And by fan I mean that I ate them weekly. Or, rather, bi-weekly. Yup. That stopped when a yearly physical revealed that my cholesterol had spiked to resemble the score of a 52-year old man that had been eating cheeseburgers and onion rings every day of his life. Yet, the pig 'n chickers know that I crave their wings...and they comment on it when I don't order up a batch.

Dunkin Donuts also knows me. This one I'm not responsible for. I do a weekly doughnut delivery for a client every Wednesday morning. As a result, they know me for ordering 12 dozen mixed doughnuts every time and when I pull up to the window they have a medium coffee with cream and sugar waiting on me without me saying a word. I LOVE that.

Conversely, I am known as the "Doughnut Lady" by the warehouse employees at the above-mentioned client. I'm convinced that it is solely because they are glad to see me, not because I look like I eat more than the one doughnut that I sneak from the 12 dozen while I'm in the car. Hey, you try to drive with a passenger seat full of hot, aromatic doughnuts and see how far you get before you're wedging your hand into the top box and looking for a glazed ring of baked delight while travelling at 80 mph on the highway.

Reading this makes me realize that maybe I'm not so far-removed from every one at McDonalds knowing who I am afterall...