The Whopper's Distant Cousin

Today Kara and I lunched at Schlotzky’s. (We don’t eat out every day.) From the drive-through she ordered a French Dip sandwich, a current promotional special. Drive-thru girl said, “What did you say?” Kara said slowly and clearly, “I would like the French Dip sandwich.” Through the speaker we hear, “Who? What?” Kara said it again, and without confirming, the girl gave us the total. We both felt a little frustrated over this customer service swoon, but they did get the order right. On the drive home I guessed that maybe because it is a special they are not used to hearing it ordered. Kara said, “No, the problem is that they call it a ‘French Dipsky’ and I refuse to call it that. It is a French Dip sandwich.” I thought that was so funny. I don’t know if I find more humor in that name (Kind of sounds like Doug Lipsky) or in Kara taking a stand over it. She thinks it is a dumb name so she refuses to use it. Who does that? Who orders a hamburger at Burger King or a fish sandwich at McDonald’s? “I’d like some breaded chicken pieces, please.“