The only real discussion I've had about this was with a man in my former subdivision who had gone to high school with my older son. Although we knew each other as neighbors and equals, he insisted on calling me "Mrs _____" when I said to call me by my first name.
He said that he just couldn't bring himself to do it. I didn't discuss it anymore.
It was nice that he was so respectful. What wasn't nice about it was he shot and killed his wife in front of his kids right up the block from me. He also shot and killed his wife's friend, the mother of 3 young children.
Sooooo, he was hung up on his version of politeness. But he was a murderer. He ended up dying in a crash while fleeing the police. The crash was a mile or 2 from my old home, on my way to work. It upset me for a very long time. I had thought the world of his little (literally) wife. She was a tiny little thing who often talked to me when I was walking the greyhounds. Her kids loved to pat the dogs.
He was a menace at local town meetings, very intimidating and threatening. He also had a substance abuse problem. He was a rich kid who inherited the house, never did any discernible work at any profession, a case study in a totally screwed up life.
He'd make an interesting case study. The wonder was he was always so nice to me. I never could say he did anything objectionable to me. He was always kind and helpful to me-----with others he was a horror.
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