Mr. Pat Panera

“Would you like a beverage with that, Mr. Pat?”

First it was Natalie, a young African American born and raised in Louisiana, who addressed me as “Mr. Pat.”

Then the guy shown in the photo, he grew up in northwest Chicago, followed suit. Two servers from Central America thanked “Ms. Emily” for her order and asked “Mr. Brian” what he would like on his sandwich.

The use of Mr./Ms. combined a first name may sound strange to many ears — like a courtesy left over from the Old South. But it’s not exclusively a regional or ethnic thing.

We had a third-grade teacher we addressed as “Miss Ann.” But the next year Mrs. Weinstradt got the formal last-name treatment. The difference was age and hairstyles.

On the first day of one of my first jobs, the Chairman of the Board told me to call him Paul. He said that in Corporate America I should never call anyone Mr. or Mrs. Last Name. Many children start off on a first-name basis with familiar adults but later their own parents insist that they address those same people as “Mr. Jones,” “Mrs. Smith.” etc. Eye contact and spontaneity suffer.

I know an otherwise normal woman who managed to avoid addressing her mother-in-law by name for 25 years! She couldn’t bring herself to call her Mom or anything else. A couple of my acquaintances admit that they never greet anyone by any name. They’re afflicted with a phobia that ironically doesn’t have a name.