Faux intimacy is so annoying. You know, those people who call you honey or sweetie or darlin' and they don't even know you?

I hate that.

I especially hate it when called that from someone in a service industry (retail clerks, waitresses, 16-year-olds from the local Dairy Queen, etc.).

While celebrating Todd's fatherhood at a restaurant today, we received no less than 5 (maybe 6) sweeties and 3 (maybe 4) honeys from our waitress between the two of us.

She was around 19.

I'm 40.
Todd's 40-something.

It came across as very disrespectful.

Initially, I went in to get our table while Todd parked and brought in Ella. I thought I misheard the waitress as she approached with, "Hello sweetie, what can I get you to drink?" I think I actually did a double take. She continued honey-ing and sweetie-ing so much throughout the dinner that I considered mentioning it to the manager. (I didn't.) It felt weird. It felt disrespectful. It felt uncomfortable.

These intimacies used by strangers are so odd to me. I'm not sure what people want to accomplish with this? Do they think it will endear me more to them -- perhaps leaving them a better tip? In my book, it does the exact opposite.

I mean, I call my husband babe.
I've known him for 14+ years.
I call my daughter sweetness.
I birthed her from my loins.
These qualify me to call them whatever pet name I want.
What doesn't qualify as the right to a pet name?
Taking my drink order within 3 seconds of meeting me, that's what.

So, please don't use these intimate pet names with me unless

1) You are a close family member,
2) You are an older person (whom I think has earned the right to pretty much do what they want in life), or
3) You are a waitress with FLO on your name tag who works for Mel in his diner and we're filming a 70s TV series.

Other than that? Let's just stay on simple, non-intimate terms, shall we?
Your Highness works just fine for me.


homeslice said... @ 11:09 AM

my pet peeve? when the waiter decides to SIT DOWN a the table with us while taking our order. you know, because he can. the first time it happened my mouth was hanging open. the second time i thought, "is this a southern thing?" and the third time? i was back to being completely floored. he kept sitting down - every time he came to check on us.

WritRams said... @ 11:11 AM

SOOOO with you homeslice! If it's "one of those" restaurants where they sit with you, I always scoot to the edge of the booth seat so there's no room for them to sit (and they're left crouching on the floor).

Since when do I need to pay to be treated like a close friend or family? I don't pay my brother. I don't pay my best friends. (Although, after they see this...)

thatdamnredhead said... @ 1:37 PM

You could not survive living in Baltimore, hon.


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