I just had to have my car serviced at the dealership, and it wasn’t a pleasant experience. I’m not going to go into the details, because, frankly, they are boring. And I won’t mention the name of the brand… suffice it to say it rhymes with Schmexus.
What I do want to address is the practice that some people (men) have of addressing women of a certain age as “young lady.” I’m a forty-five year old woman. I have earned every single privilege that comes with that age, and I find it offensive in the extreme to have a service provider pander to me by calling me “young lady.” It seems to be rampant in the auto industry particularly, but I’ve also experienced it in doctors’ offices, attorneys’ offices and the gym.
Stop it, just stop it.
I’m not young. I will never again be young. I don’t pretend to be young. I don’t want to be young. My greatest aspiration in this life is not to recapture my youth. Really. I swear. I would appreciate it if you would not involve me in your pandering to the collective delusion that what all women REALLY want to be is 22 years old. We don’t. No more than we all are desperately searching for a man to take care of us or think that photos of your man junk are somehow attractive or appreciated. Promise.
You can call me by my first name. You may call me “ma’am” or “Ms.”. I’ll even give you a free pass to call me “Mrs.”, but, for the love of God, don’t address me to me as “young lady.”
I’m sure some people will think I’m overreacting, that there are other, far more important, things to make a stink about, but respect is respect. I expect it. I earned it. I deserve it. I demand it.