One of my biggest pet-peeves is when salespeople* call me ma'am. It happens all the time and drives me bonkers. I am not a ma'am. I am 25-years old. Please don't call me ma'am.
So imagine how excited I was when I stopped to buy a sweater after work on Friday and the saleslady behind the cash register called me young lady. Nice, right? Appropriate, polite, not ma'am. I was pretty psyched... until she turned to the old lady behind me and said, "Are you all set to check out, young lady?"
Ugh. Thanks. Thanks a lot.
*This rule doesn't seem to apply to military officers though. Something about the way they call me ma'am is slightly endearing.
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