Do I Know You?

The term, “pet peeve”, normally refers to “a particular and often continual annoyance” – a trigger that will cause teeth to grind and blood pressure to rise. Tension between co-workers, friends and family members can erupt and I don’t doubt wars have started because somebody just HAD to snap their chewing gum one more time.

But we’re all grownups here (most of us, anyway) and tolerance and civility is a sign of maturity (though a few of us tend to ignore signs, including “speed limit 35MPH” and “12 items or less”) and it’s not worth getting all bent out of shape over little, day-to-day, petty annoyances.

Unless you call me “honey”.

Ah, endearments. Sweet, tender nicknames of affection, to be bandied about by lovers, family members and very good friends as a sign of closeness and familiarity, to be given in the privacy of one’s home. At least, that was the intention: not to sound like a crabby old lady (“in MY day, we called everybody SIR or MA’AM and by gum, we were GRATEFUL to do it!”) but nothing and I mean NOTHING gets me more riled than to be referred to by a complete stranger as “honey”, “hon”, “sweetie”, “dear” or “cutie” (OK, I’ve never been called “cutie” but I STILL wouldn’t like it!).

Particularly frustrating is when it is 1) a cashier or waitress and 2) it’s out in public, where I’m not supposed to lose my temper and I’m to appear enraptured by a person I’ve never met before addressing me as if I were a favorite niece instead of a paying customer: especially when it’s evident that I am more than a few years older than this waaaay too familiar person. While I sit in embarrassed silence with a faux grin on my face, friends who know me too well watching me and poking each other, I am absolutely seething on the inside and wondering if hurling a dinner roll at a person’s head is considered a felony or misdemeanor? What about a coffee cup? Is the severity of the charge based on the weight of the object thrown? What if I aim at her well cushioned behind, as opposed to her head? She’s on her feet most of the day, would it be a criminal act if I tagged her in the butt?

Only once did I decide to defend my dignity: after being called “dear” seven (SEVEN) times in the course of paying for a few items at a drug store, I just lost it. Learning forward slightly, money in hand, looking the younger woman straight in the eye, I said in a somewhat menacing tone:

“My NAME is not DEAR.”

The cashier and everyone in line behind me froze. If I pulled out a gun and shot it into the air, I couldn’t have received a more attentive audience. For a full five seconds nobody moved and I waited, slightly scared and mighty curious as to what would happen next.

Finally, the cashier dropped her gaze, took my cash and handed me my change without a word. No one spoke or moved as I gathered my purse and purchases and walked out of the store. A victory, you say? Heck, no, I felt guilty as sin as soon as I got into my car. The awful, dreadful moment of silence, the motionless customers behind me, even the silence of the cashier made me believe I was a “mood murderer”, one of those folks who can kill all the joy in a room just by walking in.

Have I defended myself since? No, I haven’t the heart. Maybe this is a person’s way of bringing joy into the world and “honey” isn’t quite as condescending as I think it is. So I’m back to gritting my teeth and letting it wash over me like a grating wave of irritating, stinging jellyfish. Easy going and “go with the flow”, that’s me.

But seriously - if I throw something soft, say a honey bun, is it a felony or misdemeanor?