Monday, January 11, 2010

I? Am not your ma'am. Punk.

By now you should know how much I hate to shop for groceries. It's not so much the shopping as it is the aftermath. And living in Superior we are limited to one change of grocery store, which is fine. In Duluth I have a few other options but the thought of driving to Duluth to grocery shop seems like a waste when I can get the exact same stuff in Superior and really? I can't see that experience would be any better.

(If you follow me on FaceBook you will have already heard about this. And if you don't follow me- you should. Otherwise you are kind of a loser.)

But on New Year's Eve I had to go. Like I had to. We had nothing. I couldn't even scrap enough stuff to make a ghetto meal the next day. When Matt is telling you we are bare bones you know the situation is critical. So I went out at about 7pm. Since we are particularly broke lately I was making it a short trip, 15 items, hopefully under $30.

I made it through the store with little incident but it was the check out line that set me over the edge. There was a young girl in front of me, maybe only a few years younger than me taking FOREVER with her food stamps. Then her WIC thingies. Then she had a gift card. And oh wait, she had a coupon. And oh my god- her pen doesn't work. And oh man, the card swiper thing is wrong- haha- she was swiping it wrong. You get the picture. 20 minutes it took this bitch to check out.

It's my turn, and the kid (with a serious acne problem. Looks maybe 16 years old) is dumb. Like is having a hard time ringing up produce. Like buddy- it's one fucking cucumber at .59. How hard is your job?

And at the end?

(wait for it)

He says, "Have a nice night. Ma'am."

Oh. No. He. Didn't.

He did not just call me ma'am. Fucking a! I am not even 28 years old. I'm technically not even on the cusp of 28, but he's calling me ma'am. This?? Should not be happening to me. Why don't you ask to see my AARP card while you are at it?

So I am leaving in a huff. So much so that I realize their bags still suck and I have to double bag everything. Cheap bastards.

On my way out wearing a cute pair of heels (it's snowed recently, and there is a crappy and chunky layer of ice everywhere. Heels maybe wasn't the smartest choice but hey- handy weapon) there is a guy on the bench outside of the door.

Please note that behind the grocery store is a huge field and then beyond that are the railroad tracks. This translates to the grocery store field being a mecca for homeless people. And not always nice ones who are just cool about being homeless. (And by this I mean those assholes asking for help or donations while standing near a business with a "help wanted" sign clearly posted).

So this guy, old, dirty, and scary looking says to me, "Hey honey. Are you looking for a friend tonight?" To which I replied (and I realize now that maybe it wasn't the smartest thing to even say anything, but I think we're all familiar with my inability to shut up), "Um, what made you think I needed a friend? Because I don't. I want to go home. And eat one of my crappy cans of soup. And because crackers were on sale, I'm going to eat one of those too. Get a better pimp."

Now please know by now another guy has come out with his bags and the kid that collects carts. Both of them look at me, then laugh. Which in hindsight, I'm glad other people were there, because I totally *get* how maybe I shouldn't mouth off to someone who may or may not be mentally sane. And honestly? I probably shouldn't have said anything about my food. But let's be clear that I donate regularly to all of the local area food shelves. And I give money. So nobody can say I'm heartless or ungrateful.

Anyways. Don't ever ma'am me. Seriously. I am not old. If I lost weight I'd be a hot bitch. Emphasis on bitch. And I'm ok with that.


Unknown said...

Hah great blog, I just got called ma'am yesterday and I wanted to scream. So not cool :)

E said...

Oh, being ma'am-ed is the WORST! But at least you made it out alive :)

Sara said...

You are hysterical!!! Quick thinking on your feet. And thunk you on the head for wearing heels in the snow. Get some boots, woman! said...

What is the earliest age you can call someone Ma'am, or Sir? A sign of gray hair or? A bad limp or? I would feel a little weird being called "Sir," if I walked into that store.

Alyssa said...

oh gosh, i am cracking up over what you said to the homeless man!!!

Ah the anger grocery stores can bring out :)

It's Just Me said...

you yankees get way too upset by the "ma'am"
here in the south, as for me kentucky, your momma would smack your mouth if you didn't "ma'am and sir" and it didn't have anything to do with age and i mean it doesn't have anything to do with how old the "ma'am-er" or the "ma'am-ie"
it is what we call, "using your manners"
i went to michigan once and thought some lady, who could have been my grandmother by the way, was going to come after me with her straw purse because i said ma'am.

then again, he was probably not from the south and was probably just being a little punk bitch. next time - kick his ass!

April said...

Oh your posts make me laugh!

I've been "ma'am"ed when I've visited America - I didn't realise it was offensive and thought they were just being polite. Next time I will remember that high heels have more than one purpose...!

Steph said...

Oh my your'e nuts, lady! :D Great come back!

I was ma'amed a few months back by a guy at my university. Yes, I'm an older student, but not that freaking old!

Noel said...

Ugh, I have the same reaction when being called "sir." Or "Mister."
At least they didn't add "you're making a scene" when they called you ma'am. ;-)

Meghan said...

I GET CALLED MA'AM ALL THE TIME! it drives me INSANE... so glad to see a post on such a common problem. ;)

I linked to this from the QLC post on 20sb... and will be following from now on. Great writing style! :)

Mr O said...

I moved to the south when i was about 9, and I have been taught since 3rd grade to call adults ma'am and sir, no matter the age. I still get crazy looks and "don't do that"s from a bunch of people.

Point: you would probably hate a lot of people down here

Lauren said...

Ugh! I just turned 30, and on my birthday the bagger kid at the grocery store called me ma'am. And a little part of me died inside.

New to your blog, you are hilarious!

Green Stone said...

I hate being called "Miss". It makes me feel like a little girl. I'd much rather have the more authoritative "Ma'am".

Progressive Momma said...

I hate when people call me Ma'am. I'm your same age, and look like I could be 18 on some days...

When stupid teeny boppers call me Ma'am I give them a death stare.

Love what you said to the man...haha you're a riot!!!