Member-only story
Thoughts On Aging
I’m not ready…
While out running errands last week, my coworker texted and asked if I could bring him back a bagel.
I work for a university so there is no shortage of little shops on our busy campus. I ducked into a crowded Starbucks and ordered the bagel, waiting amid a throng of college students. Admittedly, I did look different from everyone else, dressed in office clothes rather than the sweats, shorts, and crop tops around me. I was obviously older than the students, but I wasn’t thinking about it at the time.
The barista called out the names on the orders. She was probably a college student herself and very friendly, complimenting other students on what they were wearing as they collected their orders. When my order was ready, the (very sweet) barista called my name. I stepped forward for the bagel and she said, “Here you go, ma’am.”
Ma’am.
Ouch.
Not, “I like your dress” or “Nice tattoos”.
Ma’am. No one else was called ma’am. I felt ancient in that instant.
After posting my encounter on Facebook, it was interesting to see the range of responses. It was pretty evenly divided between those who saw it as a sign of respect and those who felt like I did, that it made one feel, well, old. I’ll just add that it got a lot more attention…
