Please don’t call me hon… I’m sure I’ve talked to you about this before, but this morning…yeah, just happened again. And I didn’t feel any better about it. Let me preface that I lived in the south for about 20 years and it is common for southern women to call each other hon and darlin’ especially in a retail setting and I got used to it. It was more in the retail clothing stores and restaurants, not so much fast food. Now, where I do expect it, is if someone has been in that establishment before and builds a rapport with the staff or one particular person, I get it, hon, sweetie, darlin’. I know I have been in places like that and envied that connection and I had it myself in a few places, hey, I get hugs from the staff at the Waldorf Astoria in Chicago, I’m sure some people look at that with a head cocked. The place I did not expect it was at the Dunkin’ Donuts this morning that I have never been to in a city I have never been to by a person I have never met who was apparently trying to speak above the din that was non-existent. Think it just rubbed me the wrong way? Yup. I’m sure the people who go there regularly enjoy it, but let me go at least one more time before we get that familiar. Day 19