Nine times out of ten when at Starbucks / Coffee Bean & Tea Leaf / Caribou Coffee / any other coffee establishment and the barrista asks me my name so they can write it on the cup I get the same reply:
‘Monty?”
“No Martin,” I say in my English accent.
“Monty?”
“Martin. Marty,” I now say it how the American’s say it; Moooarty or Moooaartin.
‘Oh, Mooarty,” the barrista will say with a smile. “Oh your British accent is so cute.” She continues.
I smile back at her. I try to think how Monty could ever sound like Martin. I wonder if as they hear it delivered in an English accent they think Monty is an English sounding name. When I hear Monty it reminds me of the character in my favourite film ‘Withnail And I’. I’m glad she identified me as British – often I get mistook for an Australian. Close but just the wrong side of the world, I normally quip back at this slip up, before continuing to explain that I am a close cousin of the Queen and I am actually a Sir.
Martin's In La La Land 
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