I’m at Starbucks placing my order.

When the barista asks my name, I say it, but their repetition tells me they’ve heard it wrong.

Somewhere between my voice and their register, something gets lost—or perhaps something magical emerges.

Maybe it’s the Norah Jones or Aretha Franklin vibes in the air that transform “Stephanie” into “Mazda.”

Yes, Mazda.

I immediately think of Beyoncé’s Sasha Fierce. Might Mazda be my own alter ego?

For a fleeting moment, I adore it—then, I crave an upgrade. Still, Mazda has a Z in it, and I like that.

When I share this with my friend, Naoko, she says, “It’s kind of a low-key power name.”

I agree.

About a month later, I return to the same Starbucks. It's colder now, and I’m wearing a green-and-white hand-knit beanie that my friend Melissa made for me. I may look different.

I greet the barista by name and ask if they remember me—Mazda. I catch a swirl of recognition—almond milk and coffee mixed with curiosity.

I remind them of our first Mazda moment. The lights flicker on and they remember.

They ask if I want “Stephanie” or “Mazda” on my cup.

I do not dislike this question. So, I stay silent and smile conspiratorially.

See the photo reveal: they chose perfectly.

This got me thinking…

What if Starbucks' name-on-cup tradition evolved? What if baristas offered a choice: your real name or a superhero alter ego?

What name would you choose—or what name might choose you?

I know the idea has holes—go ahead, poke away.

Maybe it’s been done.

But imagine the fun.