On Hon, Honey and Sweetie

The other day I was driving through the drive thru at a popular coffee place, I don't want to give free advertising so we will just say that it was called Splunkin Splonuts. I ordered, or maybe my wife ordered by speaking over me, as I am a big coward sometimes. I would rather her place the order than try and "telephone game" her order to the faceless box. I always screw it up, no matter how simple and then end up stammering and stuttering and feeling very foolish. But anyway, no matter how it was done coffee was successfully ordered. We drove around and the debit card was handed to the young woman manning (or womaning) the window. I have to admit, that I do like to have my wife order over me. It is a little payback for all the times that the voice over the box has been a guy's and then I drove around to the pick up window and there was a woman there. Or vice versa. Or the times that the voice changes gender in mid-order. Does it really take two people to place an order? And every time I make the same stupid joke about puberty hitting.

But now I am veering off topic, lets get back on track, where was I, yes... The debit card was given, and that is another thing I hate. I feel like an idiot putting a $2 dollar charge on my debit card. To think of all the technology involved, satellite signals, data streaming, electronic devices linking up, account information verifications, for an item I could probably pay for if I looked under the seats of the car and gathered all the change. But then again, would there be any change? I never carry cash anymore. Everything goes on the debit card, from bills, to groceries. They could probably change all the color of our money to neon green and it would be months before I even noticed.

The people I feel who must have taken the greatest hit from this new technology are those organizations who collect money at bucket drops. I feel kind of sad for those people standing in the middle of the road with their organization's sign and a bucket, begging for your change. But now, we as a society, have little change. How much revenue has been lost by little leagues, EMTs, softball teams, fire stations, cheerleaders, etc. And I also feel like a big jerk driving by with my window closed, pretending like they are not there. It is even worse when you have to stop at a light and they are right there, staring at you, judging you. And you stare forward, trying to will the light to change. All because they don't accept VISA.

But anyway, what was I talking about? Oh yes, debit card was given, money deducted from my account and card returned. Then, delicious coffee was handed through the window. Now, I don't drink coffee. I love the smell of coffee, I enjoy coffee ice cream, but I refuse to drink the stuff. I believe it stems from the fact that my parents always told me that coffee was a beverage that was reserved for adults. (Well, they didn't phrase it like that, it was probably more like me saying "Can I have some coffee?" and them saying "No, it's for grown ups.") I think that has stuck with me all these years. If I start drinking coffee I am going to have to admit I'm a grown up. I am 41 now and it is too late to start acting like a grown up. Maybe next year!

But anyway, back to the original story... As the girl handed me the coffee, she said "Here you go hon." I said "Thank you," passed the coffee to my wife and drove away. Then my wife had to listen to me go on for the next half hour about one of my many irrational pet peeves. The girl called me hon. Now I don't mind when a convenient store clerk, a waitress, a fast food worker, basically anyone in the service or retail industry calls me hon, or honey or sweetie or any other little terms of endearment. I only have one condition that they have to meet to make it acceptable. They have to be older than me!

Like I said it is irrational but it drives me crazy with a capital K when some girl (for some reason guys never call me hon) who looks like she is 18 years old starts whipping around the hons. I just want to look at them and say "Gramma, is that you?" Don't call me hon. I will call my wife hon and she can call me hon. I guess that would be the only person younger than me that I will take that kind of language from. Call me sir. I'll take a sir. I'd appreciate a sir. It may sound a bit snooty but dammit I'm old enough to be your father. Call me daddy! Ok, that just got weird. Don't call me daddy. How about Mister? Mister would work too. If you use an English accent I could call you Tiny Tim or Oliver Twist. What in God's name am I talking about? I guess all I am trying to say is that hon, honey and sweetie should be reserved for those who have earned the right to use it.

On a side note, as I was thinking about feeling guilty about not throwing change in the bucket it made me think about grocery shopping. I always feel like an ass when I am checking out and the register worker (the registereer?)  asks if I would like to donate a dollar to whatever cause they are collecting for and I say no. I can't even look them in the eye when I say it. I have actually gotten to the point where I make a little joke every time I say no. Basically I say "I always feel guilty when I say no." They try to make me feel better, though and say it is all right, but their eyes say, "You just bought four 2 liter bottles of my favorite carbonated caramel colored beverage, you can't swing a dollar to help find a cure for fill in the blank? You cheap bastard." Well, maybe I just need more lessons in reading eyes.