I Am Jerri, Hear Me Roar

So I was at a burger joint in downtown Sacramento. I place my order (double cheeseburger – no lettuce [lettuce is a cheeseburger buzzkill, trust me]), and it goes something like this:

Order taking dude: “Your name?”

Me: “Jerry.”

Dude (writing): “Okay, Jerry, that’s J-E-R-...?”

Me: “X-Q.”

Now, I understand when people ask about the Gerry vs. Jerry thing, but I’m very curious about how else to end my name. I was in the “fabulous” part of town, so perhaps he thought I spelled it “Jerri”? As silly as that sounds, a few moments later, a lady asked me if I was “homosexual”, because she was doing "market research" on gay friendly jewelry or something. So maybe the dude at the counter thought the same thing. Do I look like a Jerri? I know I like shoes, and I love Ikea, and I kinda have a crush on Vince Vaughn, but I assure you, Dear Reader, despite my gay friendliness, I am straight.

At least until Vince ditches Jennifer. Then I'm Jerri.
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