A Real American Name

I work at a small shop in town that is run by mostly college girls and every few days the FedEx man comes by and drops stuff off at the back of the store.  He always has some offensive comment/joke lined up for us.  One of my favorites is, “I must have been a woman in a past life because I don’t shut up!  Hahah.”  He expects us to laugh and some of the girls humor him but I usually just stand there in awe.  But, perhaps the most offensive comment I’ve heard from him was last Tuesday…

He always has to take a name and signature from an employee recieving the package.  He always jokes with my friend who has a Greek name.  Apparently it’s difficult to spell for him.  My last name is obviously Italian, which he also struggles with from time to time.  Finally, an employee with the last name of Brown signed for the package.  When she told him her last name he exclaimed, “OH!  Finally, a real American name around here!”

I was amazed.  Apparently, me and my friend with Italian and Greek heritage aren’t American.  Apparently, being grandchildren or great grandchildren of immigrants makes us less American.  Apparently, because he can’t spell we aren’t “real” Americans.

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