“Thank you, ma’am.”
Ma’am? Ma’am? Did she just call me ma’am!!!???
I remember the first time someone called me ma’am. I was at a store purchasing clothing and after I finished paying, the teenager called me ma’am. I immediately told her, “I’m not a ma’am!” and stomped out. Talk about a life changing moment! These days, ma’am doesn’t phase me. I’m actually appreciative of how respectful it sounds.
But then, my son told me about a shocking experience he had last week. He was buying dinner at Chipotles when the guy called him “sir”. Right away he demanded they not call him “sir”. When they asked what he wanted to be called, he said, “I don’t know, dude maybe, but definitely not sir.” As he explained his frustration, it threw me back right into the first ma’am moment.
Oh crap! Now I have a son that is a sir!
The last straw was on Monday when I took a class in finances and the thirty-something instructor looked out across the room and referred to us as an “older” audience. And then, she talked about us seniors who would soon be retiring. That was over the line!
NO…I DON’T ACCEPT IT!
Just because AARP has been sending me solicitations for five years now, doesn’t mean a thing. I tear each one up. Pretty soon I’ll be taking the blank documents and returning them in the postage paid envelopes. There…that’ll teach ’em.
I’ve decided I’m drawing the line. I’m not a senior! I’m defining senior as sixty-five…or at least until someone offers me a worthwhile senior discount. Then, I might just reconsider.