Posted on 09/01/2006 9:25:13 AM PDT by pissant
There is a four-letter word, deriving from the French, that is, quite possibly, the most offensive word known to womankind. And it was used on me just last night. The exact quote was “Can I see your license and proof of insurance, ma’am?” I was ma’am-ed. Not to be confused with maimed, there was no slashing involved, but in that tiny part of the brain where a woman’s insecurities lie most of us would rather be maimed than ma’am-ed.
Being ma’am-ed is tantamount to having our self-esteem maimed. A woman can be dressed to the nines in Dior with Harry Winston diamonds and strappy sandals by Leboutin, hair by a single monikered God of tresses and makeup by the angel Kevin Aucoin on special leave from Heaven, she can be her thinnest ever (skinny enough to fit into her high-school jeans), Botoxed and Restylaned within an inch of her life, essentially looking like Aishwarya’s prettier, younger sister and all it takes is one word to destroy the sex-goddess image and make her feel old. That’s the power of ma’am.
Who knew that one little word could have so much power, but it can. It has to come from the right source, though. It doesn’t work when it’s the 15-year-old bag boy asking you if you want paper or plastic. To him, everyone out of high school is ancient enough to be ma’am-ed. It also doesn’t count when it is coming from any make-up counter personnel; they have all undergone elite training programs to pinpoint the exact moment in the makeup consultation when you are feeling the most vulnerable, and then they hit you with the ma’am. This maneuver brings your self-esteem to the lowest point ever, thereby making you willing to buy anything they throw at you as they have just succeeded in making you feel about as attractive as John Merrick. Most women fall for it and wake up the next day released from the spell of the ma’am and the fluorescent lights and return all their bounty, smug in the reassurance that they caused the ma’am-wielding hussy at the makeup counter to lose her huge commission.
I have become invincible to the powers of the makeup counter sales-associate ever since one informed me, at the ripe old age of 17, that I “have a few wrinkles along your brow line, ma’am,” and that they sold an “amazing cream that could take care of those for only $260.”
The wrinkles to which she was referring in actuality was a single scar that runs through my left eyebrow, causing me to have a Vanilla Ice-like gap in it if I am not extremely careful with the tweezers. Needless to say, I pointed out that I had had that “wrinkle” ever since I was 3 years old and, graceful being that I am, managed to get myself whacked in the forehead with a wooden swing seat. I did, however, manage to leave the scene with quite a few free samples thanks to her little faux pas including one of the “amazing cream” and it did actually work wonders, just not on my scar.
My last run-in with the M-word did not have the same effect on me. It did not leave me unscathed. I was actually a little affected by it. No police officer has ever used the ma’am on me. I’ve always gotten the miss. I get pulled over quite frequently due to burnt out headlights (daytime running lights are evil), but I always get miss-ed, not ma’am-ed. The whole fiasco was compounded by the fact that the police officer was only about two years my junior and ma’am-ing me left and right. Once they start they never stop. “Were you aware your headlight was out, ma’am? I’m just going to run your license, ma’am. Where were you coming from, ma’am? Have a safe night, ma’am.”
The worst part about being ma’am-ed is that in most cases ma’am-ers don’t know they are causing offence, so you cannot attempt to correct them without seeming like some crazy old bat. The issue with ma’am is that there lies a great difference between the word’s denotation and it’s connotation. The word denotes respect. The connotation however is something much greater. It connotes respect as well, but truthfully no woman wants to feel that she is old enough to garner that much respect. Most women hear the word ma’am and it conjures up images of the ancient spinster lady in the neighborhood who would yell at children from her porch for doing things like whispering too loud. No one wants to be thought of as that lady. Ma’am is an abbreviation for madam and nobody wants to be thought of as some campy queen’s crabby old hand puppet. I just don’t know too many women who would pick Wayland Flowers as their gay best friend.
The whole thing reminds me of a movie I once saw in which the aging actress goes to Paris for her last chance at reviving her career.
Throughout the film waiters, bellhops and even her leading man refer to her as madam. Her only response is to scream “moiselle” at them until they get the picture.
So what can we as women do to combat the ma’am? Short of screaming “miss” at an individual every time she addresses you in such an unpleasant manner, there isn’t much we can do. We simply have to get the word out that no one likes the M-word, but there will always be the snips that use it simply because they know we think of it as an insult.
We have to look deeper and remember that there are plenty of people out there who would never think of us as a ma’am. Remember the young guard who carded you at the casino (he apparently thought you were under 18). And the girl at Noah’s Ark who referred to you and your friends as girls (not ladies) just before she sent you plummeting towards your demise.
But mostly it’s just a simple matter of fact that you’re only as old as you feel or in this case as old as you let someone make you feel, and as far as I’m concerned no one has that kind of control over my emotions. So stay strong; when all else fails remember that sweet young man in line at the grocery store who was totally checking you out. You don’t even have to flirt back; just remain smug in the fact that you still got it.
Hank Jr. BTTT
"...Tuna? Is that Chicken of the Sea?..."
No. He's the head coach of the Dallas Cowboys.
GO COWBOYS!!!!!
Chortle! Those deadly words, "Bless your heart, honey!"
I think "Ma'am," makes me an authority figure, which I don't mind a bit :-).
O K, Here it goes, this realy gets em riled. You guessed it, twat wad!!
"THIN SKIN ALERT!"
Whatever you do. Never refer to a female co-worker as "Old Timer". They hate that.
I think this is supposed to be a humor column, kind of a "by the girls, for the girls" thing. I put it in the "Steel Magnolias" category. I don't know why people have so much trouble accepting the fact that they're getting older.
I suggest "you old bag." This ditz is clearly having a problem with being a woman of a certain age, and she needs a reality check.
It happens to all of us, if we are lucky enough to live that long, and she should just get over it. What does she want with a 16 year old supermarket bag boy, anyway?
I was on a college campus last week and a female freshman called me "sir" (I just turned 30). It didn't really bother me, but I suddenly realized I'm not so young anymore.
How ridiculous! Why are so many women ashamed or offended by their femininity?
Guess we know where she's not from.
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