No, Hon, you can't....

We were at TGI Friday’s, after a bit of shopping and schlepping Freshman Daughter’s gear back to campus after the (WAY too long, IMO) holiday break. A little quiet dinner, a drink, some reassuring conversation etc. Well our server was “Junie” who was way too friendly for my taste, but she meant no harm. We ordered a round of drinks, and mine was my customary Jameson’s, straight up, ice on the side. So far s’ok. In a little while Junie came back and said “We’re all out of Jameson’s Hon (!) can I bring you a Maker’s Mark?”

Now I said nothing about the “Hon” which as far as I’m concerned marked Junie as one step above trailer trash, but never mind. Where I got into trouble was this: “No, thank you, that isn’t even close. Maker’s Mark is bourbon and Jameson’s is Irish; do you have any Bushmills?” Why, I was queried immediately by family females, couldn’t I just smile and ask for Bushmills? Sensing a series of accusations of curmudgeonliness in the offing, I pointed out that a server in a place where booze is on offer really ought to have a clue as to the nature of the wares she’s expected to furnish – if for no other reason than so that she will not appear to be a dunce when suggesting substitutions. No, no, no, not a bit of it, I was being a smartass. I didn’t think so; I didn’t rave and fulminate and phumpher about her ignorance (never mind her inappropriate familiarity – the proper form of address is “Sir” not “Hon”), but wife & Freshman Daughter were having none of it, and I wore the hair shirt all the way home. Well, maybe not all the way, but at least as far as the next town.

But really; shouldn’t a waitress (or other server) know the difference between bourbon (even very nice bourbon, which I’m sure Maker’s Mark must be) and Irish? And not call people they don’t know “Hon?”