I remember the first time someone called me ma'am. I was in my early/mid twenties (maybe about 23-24). I was at Burger King. And the guy (boy?) behind the counter called me ma'am. And inside I started screaming to myself "I am not a ma'am! I'm a Miss!" And then I noticed he was probably 16. So, to him, I *was* a ma'am. Over the last couple years, I've sorta gotten used to being called ma'am by some of the young teenagers working at various cash registers. I don't like it, but at least it doesn't send me into a huge lament about aging.
Yesterday, though, something very bad happened. I was at the gas station. The cashier was 65-70 years old if he was a day. And *he* called me ma'am! How am I a ma'am to him?! I mean, I could almost be his granddaughter! I am totally a "Miss"! Especially to him! I'm not that old! I think the only way to balance this is to get carded at the liquor store. That would make me feel better.
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