I do not drink the coffee in Starbucks because it doesn’t taste good. But even if I did, I wouldn’t, for another reason: my name. Because if you’re a half-Turkish, half-Iranian second-generation immigrant like I am, it means you have a name that few can pronounce, and which even your parents can’t agree how to spell. (My father spells it with a Sh, my mother with an Ş. In their defence, they don’t agree on much.)

When your own parents can’t agree on the spelling of your name, and beloved co-workers continue to get it wrong after years of gentle admonishing – well, I’d rather not have to go through the rigmarole of painstakingly spelling it out to a barista. In the past, when ordering an iced caramel frappuccino from Starbucks (I am not proud of this drink choice, but there we are), the conversation has gone a lot like this: “Sirin ... No, S-I-R-I-N ... pronounced Shirin. No, not like Ed Sheeran. SIRIN.” (Is presented with a cup with “Sharon” written on it.) Which is why I have the utmost sympathy with the 25-year-old admin worker and Starbucks patron Nadia Khan.

Last week, Khan ordered a cookies-and-cream frappuccino from the Feltham, west London branch of Starbucks and was asked – as is standard practice in outlets of the coffee chain – to give her name for the order. When her drink was brought to her with “Hippo” scrawled in permanent marker across the side, Khan’s mother went “absolutely ballistic”, and confronted the employee. “Mum told him he should treat customers with respect, no matter how skinny, fat or whatever,” Khan told the Daily Mirror. Starbucks subsequently apologised, and said it would be “working closely with the store team to ensure it doesn’t happen again”.

I wish Starbucks would rethink their naming policy. This isn’t the first time name-related mishaps have occured. Social media is full of claims of Starbucks staff spelling people’s names wrong – from the Philadelphia man who told workers his name was Aziz, but received a cup with “Isis” written on it (Starbucks apologised but he is considering legal action) to a woman called Ann-Louise who was given a cup with “Anus” written on it.

If your name is unusual, or not of English origin, it’s almost inevitable that it will be misspelled by your barista. It’s exasperating to have to repeatedly spell it out front of a queue of people. Starbucks claims its policy helps it to “connect with customers”, but grotesquely misnaming someone is more the sort of behaviour I expect from one-night stands.

Ditch the names, Starbucks, and I’ll be first through your doors. If you improve the coffee too, that is.