The Adventures of Jorg

“The names Majeau, Jorg Majeau”

"May I have your name, please?" asked the Barista at the Starbucks who was typing in my order at the till

"My name is Jordan," I replied and then instinctively started moving over to the left side of the counter after I paid. The Barista looked up from his work briefly, smiled, and gave me a nod of admiration. It was like I had just said something very cool or that my name inspired him somehow. "Cool...Jorg" he said approvingly.

Now, a half-second after he said it, I considered correcting him-but then I thought I'd enjoy this new name for a moment. Who is Jorg Majeau? Where does he live? What does he do?

Here's what I came up with: Jorg Majeau is an internationally known travel journalist who lives in a tree house in Norway. He wears black turtle-neck shirts and designer glasses and spends an inordinate amount of time listening to the minimalist classical composer Arvo Pärt. He sips coffee roasted from Japan and is the world's foremost expert on 16th-century Luthiers. He could easily be the new world's most interesting man.

The Barista misheard my name, but I admit it was nice to have someone assume a good version of me. Moreover, the assumption improved the interaction.

How many of my interactions would be improved if I assumed the best out of everyone? Erring on the side of hope and vision isn't hurting anyone.

Thanks for reading, friend; I hope someone assumes the best of you this week.

P.S. I’d love to hear your story of having your name misheard.