I was up late a few nights ago and decided to take a break for a little bad-for-body, good-for-the soul late-night drive-thru action. The acne-ridden employee working the window did something to me that's been happening a lot lately - he ma'am'd me.
"Would you like some sauce with that ma'am?"
"Ma'am? Ma'am! Since when am I a 'ma'am,'" I thought. "Mild please," I said.
The sudden onset of this phrase in my life could mean one of two things - either I need to start using anti-wrinkle cream, or Tennesseans have a much younger version of what constitutes ma'am status. I'm hoping for the latter.
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