“Hey, Ladybug!” is Ms. Edith’s usual greeting from behind the desk at B&G OK Tire Store. Ms. Edith is a fixture at the tire place that she and her husband started up several decades ago. There’s no telling how long she’s been greeting people that way but you can count on it. Well, I guess you can count on it if you’re a woman; I don’t know if she has a pet name for men, but most likely she does, because she doesn’t discriminate. I’ve often wondered why they didn’t give the tire store a better name than “OK,” like maybe “Stupendous” or at least “Excellent,” but it’s obviously not my tire store. Apparently they weren’t too optimistic on opening day 50 years ago.
Some days, you might be “Angel” instead of “Ladybug,” but she always makes you feel special. For many years, until she grew too old and tired, she would send a birthday card to everybody at First Baptist, and to others that were in her outside circle. The cards were always signed “Ms. Edith and Mr. Tom.” You could count on a card from her even if no one else remembered.
Another thing you can count on is conversation while your tires are being rotated or repaired. Her view of the parking lot through the full-length front window gives plenty of opportunity for comment on goings on outside. And she has no shortage of stories and questions for you, so that there is little time to actually see a Fox News report on the little waiting room TV. If you don’t want to talk, don’t go to B&G. And I love that about it. It’s really more than OK.
“See you later, Angel,” she calls, when your car is finally ready. And you leave, feeling better than when you came.
I love pet names. Ms. Rhona’s favorite is “Doll.” Ms. Rhona is the matriarch of McKendree Methodist, overseeing just about everything that goes on there. If there is something she can be involved with or can support, she’s there. And I don’t think she has a moniker for the men, but every woman there is a doll.
“Why, Doll,” she smiles after you’ve just complimented yet again her famous yellow cake with the thick cooked chocolate frosting, “I’ll bring you the recipe!” And she does, handwritten on a lined index card. That’s pretty special.
Mr. Bullard trains and raises bird dogs in Cleveland. With only one son and no grandchildren, he’s taken a special interest in our daughters, even gifting us once with a retired bird dog. To him, both girls are Sweet Pea. But you have to say it right. It’s sort of like Swaaeet Paaee. You have to draw out the long A and E sounds in one long fluid motion, if that’s even possible. Actually don’t try it, unless you were born and raised in the Southeast. But Mr. Bullard has it down pat and they love it.
You don’t even have to know someone to bestow a pet name. I’ve been called Sweetie multiple times at the McDonald’s drive thru window, and the lady at the grocery store checkout calls me Baby. Most kids are named Punkin or Sweetheart if you don’t know their real name, and rowdy little boys are knuckleheads. But if you’re a man and you call a boy a knucklehead, you have to add the hand motion of rubbing his head with your balled up fist. That one takes talent. A variant of Sweetie that you might try is Sweetie Pie. My grandmother went a step further, naming me “Lynnie Pie,” which no one else has ever called me and probably never will. At least I hope not.
Making people feel special isn’t hard. Everybody needs a name, and if you don’t know it, you just make one up. Just make sure it’s one they’ll most likely agree with. I’ve never once heard anyone complain about being a Sweetie Pie or a Darlin’. I wouldn’t try Dumplin’ but you might be safe with Muffin. In fact, just about anything related to sweet food is OK—like Sugar Pie, or Cupcake. Possibilities are just about limitless.
“So, Ladybug,” begins Ms. Edith, “I’ve got just a minute so tell me how those girls are doing.” And you know she really cares because she called you ladybug. And it will definitely be more than a minute.
