So today I walked into my local coffee shop to order my much needed large, non-fat, no foam, extra hot mocha and the guy behind the counter says, “What can I get for you ma’am?” Other than that coffee, I would love, absolutely love, if people would stop calling me “ma’am.” I know it’s a sign of respect. I know no one is trying to offend me. Even so, each time I hear it, it makes me feel 40,000 years old. And for the record, I’m only 37. So you see the discrepancy there.
I really believe that here is no one (other than maybe some 85-year-old woman living in the deep south, drinking peach ice tea on her wrap around porch) who wants to be called ma’am and it probably pisses her off too. What happened to a nice “miss?” “Miss” sounds young. “Miss” sounds bouncy. “Miss” sounds like you still wear strawberry lip balm. I love strawberry lip balm. So please, call me “miss,” hand me my coffee, I’ll smile, hand you my 4 dollars and 34 cents and we’ll do it again tomorrow.