Dear Miss Manners: As a cashier at a pharmacy chain for 19 years, I take great pride in the level of service I provide. I go out of my way to make my customers happy because ultimately they are the ones who pay me. I also take great pride in knowing the names of 80 percent of the regulars.
I’ve had my fair share of difficult people, and I always manage to find a way to deal with them politely and professionally. But last evening I had a particularly difficult one who berated me very loudly in front of several others.
When she walked through the door, I greeted her as I greet everyone, male or female, with: “Hi, hon! How are you today?” She responded, “I’m not your ‘hon,’ I’m your customer!” She walked away, cursing me and my store location in particular.
I was taken aback! Not once in all of my years of working with the public have I ever had anyone complain because I had called them “hon.”
When she came up to the register, I greeted her again, without the “hon,” but during the course of our interaction, I unintentionally called her “dear.”
That was it — she was off and running with a loud verbal assault on my rude and condescending behavior and my overall intelligence. She asked me if I even knew what “condescending” meant. I told her yes, I do know what it means, I’m very sorry, that I never meant to offend her, and I was only trying to be friendly.
This shook me to my core! I was heartbroken that I had insulted someone, even if it was unintentional, and extremely embarrassed for both her and me. It bothered me so much that I waited on the couple behind her in tears. I would NEVER purposely insult or condescend to my customers. I love them; they allow me to keep food in my daughter’s mouth, clothes on her back and a roof over her head.
Until that moment, it never dawned on me that my use of “hon” could be offensive. This bothered me so much that I started doing research about it. I found out that many people are offended by it.
I purposely don’t use “ma’am” and “sir” — I think it is too formal. I want my customers to know that I truly appreciate and care about them. I’m hoping that you will suggest something to call those who I don’t know by name — something that falls somewhere between the “ma’am/sir” formality and the “hon” familiarity.
Gentle Reader: There, there. Let us begin with acknowledging that you meant well and that the customer was rude. But then Miss Manners must go on to explain the problem.
Terms of endearment, however common, are not suitable for commercial transactions. It is a relatively formal situation, and “ma’am” and “sir” are not wrong. Except that …
There is a problem related both to those terms and to the accusation of condescension. It has to do with our prudish attitudes toward age. Some people object to titles of dignity because they believe it identifies them as old. Others consider that unwarranted affection is used to treat the elderly as children.
So you can’t win. Miss Manners offers her sympathy and suggests that you refrain from direct modes of address until you learn the new customers’ names.
Dear Miss Manners: My daughter is engaged to marry her college roommate. What is a father’s role at a gay wedding?
Gentle Reader: Father of the bride — the one whose father he is.
Dear Miss Manners: In a department that gives performance-based commissions, one of my co-workers began prodding me with questions about my commission: “What were your numbers last month?” “Have you gotten your commission check yet?” and so on.
I attempted to deflect her by saying, “Oh, I haven’t paid much attention. Everything gets direct-deposited, and I never check my deposit statements. Remind me never to do your finances.”
The joke does not seem to have discouraged her, however, as she recently began asking our supervisor about her commissions — specifically, how they compare to mine.
I don’t know what the privacy policies are like in this office (I am fairly new here), but I’m not keen on everyone knowing exactly how much I make. Nor do I care for the notion that my co-workers are in on the assessment of my performance. In any case, the questioning strikes me as rather nosy and off-putting.
Can Miss Manners recommend a way to discourage these questions in a clear and definitive way without harming what is otherwise a nice and friendly professional relationship?
Gentle Reader: Discussing money at work is not, Miss Manners likes to point out, subject to the normal ban on the topic in a nonprofessional setting. But that does not make it acceptable in the situation you describe.
Your attempt to deflect the question with humor is more attuned to a social than a business setting. “I’m sorry, but I do not want to discuss it,” followed by a quick pivot to a less delicate subject, is both more businesslike and more likely to be effective.
Dear Miss Manners: I am pregnant and would like to throw a gender-reveal party. (It’s a party for the identification of the sex of the baby.) I worry that this party might be construed as a rude attempt for gifts.
I don’t want any gifts, and this isn’t a baby shower, nor am I expecting one. I just want to share the joy with family and friends and provide food and games. But would the whole idea still be considered tacky?
Gentle Reader: Yes. Miss Manners believes that your intentions are good and that you simply want to share joyous news. So she hates to be a wet blanket (in a gender-neutral color, of course), but feels compelled to tell you something that will save you time and friendships in the future as a mother.
Not everyone is as excited as you are about every detail of your child’s life. It’s best to know this now, before you start going on Facebook announcing baby’s first spit-up, or throwing parties for when he or she sleeps through the night.
The particular new ritual you mention — and there really isn’t a correct term for this made-up event — is farcical. Cakes are cut to reveal pink or blue insides, bets are taken and teams are formed. (One acquaintance of Miss Manners attended such an event and said that the mother-to-be was so distraught when she didn’t get the gender she wanted that she started blaming the guests for jinxing it.) It is no wonder that guests assume a gift is required as the price of admission to these absurd theatrics.
The fact is that you will actually get more profound and prolonged joy if you reveal (or “identify”) the gender one by one to individuals who you think might genuinely be excited by the news. Gathering around at a party waiting to hear and celebrate the announcement of one of only two possible choices is not a party-worthy event — and it is not dignified. There will be plenty of parties in your future filled with games and silly cakes. Save the fun for then.
Miss Manners is written by Judith Martin, her son, Nicholas Ivor Martin, and her daughter, Jacobina Martin. You are invited to email your etiquette questions from www.missmanners.com, if you promise to use the black or blue-black ink you’ll save by writing those thank you, condolence and congratulations letters you owe.