So, I’m walking out of the bookstore today and I hold the door open for the guy behind me, as I usually do, and he says “Thank you, ma’am”. I hate getting ma’amed. What I hate even more is getting ma’amed by a guy clearly at least 20 years older than me. Ugh.
Now don’t get me wrong. I very much appreciate the “thank you” – many people will waltz right through a door held open for them like they own the place and they don’t need to thank you. But he could’ve left out the “ma’am”. I mean, I’m only 26! Granted, I’m starting to finally look my age, whereas I’ve spent the past 10-15 years getting mistaken for my 5-years-younger sister’s twin, which was frustrating for me around age 20. I’m also married, so I suppose if I’m a Mrs. I’m also a ma’am. But I don’t have to like it. Ma’am just sounds so old. I don’t feel that old. I don’t know. I guess you don’t have to call me miss, but I’d prefer not to be called ma’am either. A simple “thank you” or “can I help you” will do. Honestly, I’d even prefer “you there”.
In other news, “Take My Breath Away” by Berlin came on in the bookstore. You want a funny sight? Put me in a public place where that song is being played. Then watch as I get all watery eyed as I flash back to my childhood – sitting in the back seat of my mom’s car, on the way to preschool, thinking the girl singing was dying because her breath was being taken away. It was apparently traumatic for me since I still nearly cry every time I hear it. Chris finds this very funny.