The cashier took my money

Without even glancing up

So I said something funny

As a means to interrupt

Her name tag spelled out Mary

And she didn’t think it cute

When I rhymed it with scary

Before asking: Are you mute?

The parking lot attendant

Waved me past while on the phone

A job that’s not dependent

Upon people skills alone

His name badge boasted Wainwright

And that’s all I gleaned from him

While he kept playing Fortnite

With a gamer in Tianjin.

My lunch was served by Lizzie

In a small, outdoor café

Where staff are far too busy

To cite Specials of the Day

Instead when it gets hectic

They just gesture to a wall

Good luck if you’re dyslexic

When you try read the scrawl.

The bank staff social-distanced

As they monitored the line

And then at their insistence

I saw Teller Number Nine

Laverne asked for my password

Followed by my date of birth

Then after that all I heard

Was my after-tax net worth.

Without a chat

We’re hardly here

Soon after that

We disappear

But I endure

This guessing game

Because I’m sure

God knows my name.