Hello, my name is ________.

While I don't love Starbucks (it's kind of like the WalMart of beverage retailers), I am addicted to caffeine and I find myself spending upwards of $3 on soy lattes and tall peppermint mochas (no whip) a couple times a week.

Which is why I'm so perturbed that the Starbucks coffee slingers (known in the trade as "baristas") have started to ask my name when I order a drink, so they can write it on my coffee cup.

I guess I should be glad they were able to break away from tending to their piercings and sharing their inside jokes with fellow baristas long enough to take my order. And maybe I should be glad that I'm no longer known by the name of my beverage of choice, "Tall Drip."

But I can't help but feel afflicted by this slight loss of anonymity. (You know how much NaturalBlog likes his anonymity.) I'm sure the new policy makes some people feel welcome in their coffee house, but I can't help but feel creeped out. This likely has to do with a bad set of run-ins with a barista-cum-masseur who was a little too personal in his interest for me. ("Have table, will travel," he said the last time I saw him.)

But whatever the reason, I'll take it no more. From here on out, my Starbucks name is Jack. I encourage you to do the same. No, don't make up a name for yourself, but use Jack. Or Jacques, if you prefer. Jacques one-thousand, Jacques two-thousand -- if we're all using the same name, we'll have foiled Starbucks' false friendliness, and we'll force them to either learn our names for real. Or at least quit being so nosy.