This weekend, I had a very traumatic experience. I got called "ma'am" for the first time in my entire life.
It was devastating.
How did this happen? Well, it all started about a week ago. I was driving home when suddenly my car just shut off. On the mile-long drive to my house, every time I slowed down to stop, the car would just die. Needless to say, it took awhile to get home.
When deciding which mechanic to go to, several factors came into play. Should I go to my regular guy, who knows my car and has done all the work since I've had it, but who talks to me like I'm an idiot and also one time "forgot" to replace my oil; or should I risk going to someone new who would most likely also talk to me like I'm an idiot and give me the "Well that's what you get when you buy a BMW" speech when I find out that it will cost $800 to replace my flux capacitor.
I decided to go to a dealership that is partially owned by the company I work for - I figured that if they talked to me like I was an idiot or otherwise tried to screw me over, I have enough pull in the company that the situation would be promptly rectified. Bascially, I'd just whine to my boss and I'd get what I want. That is what puppet masters do, after all.
Plus, by taking my car to this dealership, I'd be able to get a loaner vehicle from them to use until my car is all better:
Pretty cute SUV, right? It's a 2007, and while silver isn't my color, I'm not going to complain about a free car for the next few days. Not bad for a loaner vehicle...
... until you see it FROM THE SIDE:
It's a freaking minivan - there's no way around it. This is my sweet loaner vehicle. This is why I got called "ma'am" at the McDonald's drivethru. After it happened, my jaw dropped as I frantically tried to think of a response. I wanted to laugh it off, saying, "Oh, I'm not a ma'am yet, this isn't my minivan, it's just a loaner. I don't even have kids with which to fill this minivan - I'm not even married. So, yeah, I'm nowhere near being a ma'am yet. I actually drive a really cute, age-and-marital-status-appropriate car. So, yeah. No ma'am's in this car, despite the deceptive exterior."
Instead, my face fell and I slumped in my big captain's chair and forlornly eased / navigated the minivan out of the parking lot, having accepted my fate as a ma'am.
But as Yanaj would say, it could be worse. I could be Drunk Aunt Lumpy:
5 comments:
Oh. My. Gosh.
That is HILARIOUS! The minivan part of it- so how does it drive anyway? Too bad you don't have Samuel to sit in the front seat with you. Then you could tell everyone he is your husband, but you can't figure out why you can't get pregnant in order to fill up the minivan.
Oh, and if you lived in the south, you'd get called ma'am every day.
I guess it's just because I've grown up in the south, but ma'am doesn't indicate age, marital status, or parenthood. It's simply a term of respect given to people with two X chromosomes.
Also, this was not the first time you were called ma'am. I called you ma'am on March 7 at 11:18 PM, and you didn't even bat an eye. So there!
drunk aunt lumpy!!!! hhaahahaha
I've decided I might as well accept my eventual fate and be drunk Aunt Lumpy year round. That's what us ma'ams do right?
yes ma'am.
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