Order # 304
– Robbie Goldman
I remember when one of my children, still little at the time, wanted me to give their name at a restaurant so they could be the one called when our table was ready. Maybe it felt like a rite of passage—being the name that represented our entire family and led the way to our dining table at the exquisite Chili’s. Or maybe they just thought it was cool to hear their name over a loudspeaker. Whatever their reason, it mattered. It was their name being broadcast for others to hear, marking the group to be seated before everyone else.
There are many times and places where our names get lifted up—called in a waiting room, announced at a party, or receiving thanks from someone special. It may be such a common occurrence that we don’t really see it as significant. However, I’ve also seen people get upset when a barista mispronounces or misspells their name. The frustration can escalate to an incredible—and sometimes even violent level. Why? Because names matter. There is significant importance in having your name, and by extension your person, recognized with honor or dishonor.
So why am I thinking about this?
Recently, a longtime friend texted me from Taco Bell. He sent me a photo of his receipt. It was labeled Order #304. As usual, it listed a summary of the food in the bag along with the name of the person who had placed the order. It’s always nice to hear your name called—not just an order number, right?
However, as I examined the picture, I noticed something unusual. Instead of his name, the receipt displayed a different moniker: “Homeless Guy.”
My friend captioned the photo with these words: “I’ve surpassed survival and am thriving in my surroundings, & still houseless. This is the first time I’ve had the label though.” His message ended with laughing and crying emojis.
Names carry weight. They tell a story, hold dignity, and shape identity. Whether called over a loudspeaker at a restaurant, written on a receipt, or spoken in a moment of gratitude, a name is more than just a label—it’s a recognition of personhood.
So what happens when that recognition is replaced with something dehumanizing?
My friend, in his resilience, chose to laugh. But his receipt was a stark reminder of how easily dignity can be stripped away with a few careless keystrokes.
It challenges me to ask: How are we acknowledging the people around us? Are we honoring their humanity? Or are we reducing them to a circumstance, a stereotype, or an assumption?
Every person deserves to be seen, named, and valued for who they are—not for what society assumes about them. The next time you hear a name, take a moment to recognize the person behind it.
Anytime you have the power to speak names with honor, do it.
Because dignity is not just something we receive—it’s something we give.
