I’ve been called a lot of things in my life – and this is where you would insert your very funny joke! – everything from “buddy” and “dearie” and “dude” to “sport,” “pal,” and “kiddo.” I can even remember a “sweetie” or two, though I don’t think I’ve ever gotten a “champ.”
Today as I was paying for a new pair of sneakers, the clerk decided to call me “honey.” She was 19 or 20, somewhat Taylor Swift-ian, and except for those I’ve been romantic with I don’t remember anyone under the age of 55 ever calling me “honey” before. That’s one of those terms of endearment you might get from a grandmother or an older, wise, gruff-but-kind waitress who has seen it all (I’ve been called honey and dearie by many of those). What would make a 20 year-old call a man of 50 “honey?” Even a man of 40, if she thought that was my age? (I like to think I can still pass for 40.)
On a related note, this song used to make me bawl my eyes out every time I heard it when I was a kid.