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Howdy, Ma’am

The other day, I was at the Taco Bell drive-thru getting a lemonade.
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I was on my lunch hour from work, so I was in a touch of a hurry.  As I am sitting there, all dressed up, full make up, hair actually “done” for a change–the young man who worked in the drive-thru called me “ma’am.”  Twice.

I know it’s cliche to say that no woman in her 40’s want to be called “ma’am”, but I wasn’t in sweats without make-up; I was in full regalia!  It would have been less painful for him to poke me in the eye with a plastic spork than to call me “ma’am.”

Seriously, I wasn’t expecting him to slip me his number or give me a free lemonade because he thought I was ‘cute,” but please don’t remind me that we BOTH know I’m old enough to be your mother by calling me…THAT.  “Ma’am” is that term you use when your teacher smacks a ruler on the desk, or when you are watching “Leave It To Beaver” reruns and you laugh at the antiquated dialogue they used.  It’s bad enough my own children think I’m ancient; I don’t need someone else’s kid to confirm it.

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I know that this Taco Bell worker was just being polite that doing his job and normally, I would appreciate his nice manners.   However, that did not cushion the “ma’am” blow.  I guess the next step is receiving a free lemonade because it’s “senior day!”

I have a solution, though.  To avoid the dreaded “ma’am” designation, I have decided to avoid lunch at Taco Bell and instead, visit restaurants with two-for-one dining, early bird specials and glorious salad bars.  This way, everyone at the restaurant will call me “kiddo” and “young lady.”  Suddenly, I have an incredible urge for a potpie…


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