Today a mechanic referred to me as “Sweetie.”
The feminist in my mind was instantly defensive.
(in my best girl-from-the-hood accent) “BOYYY, who you think you is calling me sweetie?”
And just as quickly the vain girl with the impending birthday took over.
“Sweetie. At least it wasn’t ma’am.”
I smiled, thanked the man and left with no word uttered. It’s small but I’ll take it.
And that’s how I roll sweetie.