"Ma'am" is yet another horrible-sounding word that women are stuck with to describe various aspects of their body/life/hair : Vagina. Almost universally, women hate it (with the exception of a few people in the South who have decided that being called ma'am is a sign of respect or something). How was I being perceived as a ma'am? And just what is a "ma'am," anyway? And why was I so upset? In that moment, I felt very viscerally the beginning of something slipping away: not just the possibility of fucking Clive Owen but something bigger - my image of myself. I didn't expect to be called ma'am any more than I expected Clive Owen to walk in and demand we have sex. And then some waiter, or maybe it was a bank teller, looked me up and down and decided I was a ma'am. In my mind, I was still wind-chiming around town as a miss. I remember I was around 30 and it was a complete surprise. Which means, on some level, I must have blocked it out. I don't remember the exact place or time I was first called ma'am. "Miss" sounds like you're mostly air, like your body has the magic and delicacy of a wind chime, and when you walk down the street, everyone hears little bells. "Miss" means you have more in common with Audrey Hepburn than not. Like all women, I started out life as a "miss." "How can I help you, miss?" "Miss, you dropped a dollar." "Miss, can I buy you a drink?" "Excuse me, miss, I'm interested in having sex with you." Everyone wants to be a miss.
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