You never forget the first time you're called 'Ma'am.' I was only in my early twenties (twenty-two to be exact) and I was buying some milk. The young man was probably sixteen and didn't realize the heinous atrocity he was about to commit when he asked, 'Ma'am, would you like a bag for that?' It was like I had been punched in the stomach. I just stopped what I was doing for a moment and looked at him, dumbstruck. I then kindly told him that I was still a 'Miss' then went on my way. But I never could forget that first time. Since then, I've gotten used to and have started to expect it over the years. Still, twenty-two is not ma'am-worthy.