I'll have a Mister and coke, please

Note from Sarah: We are in rural Spain this week, so I've prescheduled this post by The Mister to keep you busy. Be back soon!

I am posting a picture of her because I can. Look at those baby blues. Mine mine mine.

The Mister here.

For reasons that I've never been able to understand, people have a lot of trouble understanding my name when I tell it to them.  More often than not, it takes multiple repetitions, me saying my name and them repeating what they think they heard, before we get it all figured out.

I get a lot of, "Ryan?"

Nope.  I say it again.

"Randy?"

Sorry, not that either.  And two syllables? Really?

Sometimes its so bad that I give up and just let the person believe my name is whatever they heard.

This has led me to question my own pronunciation of my name, at times practicing in front of the mirror, or recording it as a voice note on my phone and playing it back.  I always think it sounds impossible to mistake for anything else (but maybe I'm biased).

And apparently my name is also difficult for Spaniards to understand, even when its pronounced with a Spanish accent.  I was resigned to the fact that, even here in Spain, it would be business as usual during introductions for me.  Until I was given a virtual fast pass.

How excited I was when I discovered that my name happens to be the Spanish word for a certain type of liquor.  These days, introductions take a maximum of two tries.  The first is where I say my name, and they either look at me quizzically or respond with something that's not even close, followed by me saying my name one more time and adding, "sabes, como la bebida" (you know, like the drink).  This is usually followed by a good laugh from whomever I'm meeting, or sometimes an impressed look, or even a suspicious expression.  If you're named after a well-known alcoholic drink, you must be trouble.

I have yet to discover a fail-proof method for introducing myself in English, but I am enjoying my time on top.