"Hon" Status

Your status in life is reflected in how you are addressed by service providers too overburdened or too lazy to look up your name. As a toddler, my pediatrician's receptionist always referred to me as "Little Man". "Sit right here, Little Man. You are getting so big." The Grade School Nurse called us "Kid" regardless of gender (or beard stubble for those who spent a few more years in grade school than the norm.) "You kids line up here for your polio sugar cubes." Achieving puberty at long last, we graduated to "Guy" or "Youse Guys" in High School Gym Class. "Listen up. The President's Physical Fitness Challenge is next month and there will be no more basketball until every one of youse guys can do six chin-ups." Finally, at some point in my thirties. my receding hairline and infrequent shaving routine allowed me to obtain the coveted "Sir" status. "Would you like fries with that, sir?"

Alas, all good things must come to an end. I went to the medical lab today for blood work and was constantly referred to as "Hon". "Roll up your sleeve, Hon." "Nice vein, you have there, Hon". Be careful on the ice outside, Hon."

It is unwise to argue with a person brandishing a hypodermic, but my mind was racing. "I am not a 'Hon'. 'Hons' are feeble old farts with pants hitched halfway up their chest wearing orthopedic, velcroed shoes. Compared to the rest of the guys out there in the Waiting Room, I'm Brad Pitt! I'm still the virile 'Sir' or 'Mister' that I've been since before you were born!"

Actually, the young phlebotomist was right. Like it or not, at 63 years of age, I've achieved "Hon" status. "Tiffany, look at the cute little old guy shuffling down the corridor. I'll bet he's already forgotten which room we told him to go to. Would you like to take my arm, Hon?"