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The first time I ever visited Wicked Grounds (a BDSM themed coffee shop in San Francisco), I was going to a small writers' meet with a friend of mine. He ended up being delayed by some personal stuff, so I ended up getting there a couple hours before he did. This was the first time I ever went as myself (female-presenting) to /anything/, and so I was a bit nervous. I hadn't changed my name yet, had just barely started therapy, and was very, very nervous.
Eventually, I went up to get a refill on my drank-far-too-quickly mocha, and the barista happened to ask me if I wanted to open a tab, since I looked like I'd be there a while. (I had my laptop, etc...) I said sure, and handed over my card, just as she was asking my name. Thinking she was doing a quick check on the card, I reacted instinctively with, "My name is <deadname>." She looked at me, sadness in her eyes, and said, "No hon. What's /your/ name?"
Eventually, I went up to get a refill on my drank-far-too-quickly mocha, and the barista happened to ask me if I wanted to open a tab, since I looked like I'd be there a while. (I had my laptop, etc...) I said sure, and handed over my card, just as she was asking my name. Thinking she was doing a quick check on the card, I reacted instinctively with, "My name is <deadname>." She looked at me, sadness in her eyes, and said, "No hon. What's /your/ name?"
