EDIT: I started this post about a month ago and forgot about it, so this story is actually quite old but I thought I would finish it anyway. So here you go.

 I'd like to start this post with a shout-out to my parents for their exemplary child-naming skills.  I may be slightly biased on the topic, but if you ask me, my sisters and I all have awesome names.  They're unique enough that we've never been in a class with four other people of the same names, but still not one of those crazy names that take people a while to process after you tell them your name.  You know the ones.  They tell you their name and you're like


Plus, they're nice names. They're pretty.  So thank you, dearest mother and father, for having a firm handle on how the naming process should work.
Aside from my name not being weird or boring or anything, I just really like the name Mallory. Like if it weren't my name I'd probably give it to a future daughter of mine. I just really like it.  Again, there may be a slight bias here but we're going to ignore it.
So the other day I went to the Taco Bell on campus for taco-y goodness and the guy at the register asked for my name to call, like they always do. So I told him "Mal" because that's what I usually use at restaurants and stuff since it's quicker to write.  And the guy sort of pauses and looks up at me and goes, "Did you know your name means 'bad' in Spanish?"
No, really?
But not only was that a weird thing to say to a stranger, but he said it all flirty-like, with this grin like I'm supposed to think he's hilarious.  Like, hey there girl at the Taco Bell, did you know your name is terrible and also would you like to kiss me?
So I replied all nonchalant, "Yeah, well my name's actually Mallory and it means 'bad luck' or 'unlucky,'" hoping to just leave it at that and be on my merry way. But then he starts asking me all these questions about it and trying to explain all matter-of-fact that "oh, well in Spanish suerte is luck so I never would have guessed that," so I explained that it came from 'mal huere' which I think is French, so it didn't have Spanish origins, and he just keeps going ON AND ON. Meanwhile there are like six people behind me in line and I'm getting super embarrassed about holding up the line, but every time I try to leave he keeps talking to me.
So finally I was like, "Well, I'm sorry, but my name doesn't come from any Spanish origins, and I would definitely know since I have a Spanish minor and it is, you know, my name. Can I have my change, please?"  Which felt really rude but it had been several minutes and there is a time and a place for flirtatiously attacking the etymology of a girl's name.  And then as I was waiting for my ONE SINGLE TACO I MEAN REALLY THE PRICE I PAID FOR THIS ONE TACO WAS NOT WORTH IT AT ALL off to the side Mr. Register keeps looking over at me and I'm seriously considering just ditching the entire idea of taco-y goodness but I figured I'd already suffered too much for this taco to abandon it now.  AND THEN another guy who'd been behind me in line comes and stands next to me and says, "That was the weirdest way to flirt with someone I've ever seen."  So at least it wasn't me that was thinking he was trying to flirt and just doing a really really really bad job.
And that is the story of why I'm now afraid of the BYU Cougareat's Taco Bell.