I hate being called ma’am. It makes me think of my grandmother when she’d roll her stockings down to her ankles, to cool off, she’d say.
It sure must have cooled off Grampa.
It explained all those Miss Rheingold Posters he had hanging in the cellar.
But back to me.
I still prefer being referred to as…MISS.
Hey, call me crazy, and you will after this.
What brought this on?
Charlotte, at J. Crew Factory.
Can’t a girl order socks without feeling decrepit?
After the 6th ma’am, I went off on poor Charlotte.
Granted, tempers taunt easily during this tender time, but I still owed her an apology.
Of course, after slamming down the phone, what are the chances of getting her again.
Well God, that little prankster, when I phoned planning on confessing my meanness to the next lucky recipient, guess who answered?
Good afternoon…J. Crew Factory…how can I assist you TOOODAY!!! Charlotte speaking.
Charlotte, it’s me, don’t hang up.
SB, in her Gucci Hair shirt.
J. Crew, unfortunately, doesn’t make one.