I single bartended a 50 person birthday event last night. A gentleman: cowboy hat, impressive handlebar-esque mustache, probably my dad’s age called me mama after a few drinks and every time after that.
At first it threw me off (insane poker face required for the job) because A.) I don’t have kids 2.) NEVER want kids and 3c.) I have NEVER been called this before.
HOWEVER: it made me melt. Thank god it was dark already because every time he called me it I definitely blushed. Butterflies. Blushing. Cheeky smile. Whole nine. Made me feel things. He was also the only one of the guests to check in on me the whole party, throwing a “you doin’ okay mama?” At me randomly as I was restocking my ice well.
Girlies, Gaydies, and Theydies I get it now. I’m sorry I just couldn’t understand it before experiencing it. I now know and have seen the light. HOT DAMN.
Anyway: I NEED want John Price to call me Mama while serving him at a bar. End of rant.
(Context: I live in the Deep South™️, and being called honey, baby, sweetheart, sugar, etc is par for the course and non offensive, especially with the age [late 40’s plus] range I typically serve.)
