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    Category: Bigotry

    This category is dedicated to the bottom rung of humanity at its worst — racists, homophobes, and other bigots — and, occasionally, employees at their finest.

    Too Rich For Jesus’ Blood

    | Gulf Shores, AL, USA | At The Checkout, Bigotry, Holidays, Theme Of The Month

    (It is late November, after Thanksgiving. I am working at the register closest to the Christmas stuff. Nearly everyone comes through with something for the holidays. A customer comes to my counter with a can of bug spray.)

    Me: “Hello. Is this everything?”

    Customer: “Yeah. I couldn’t find any d*** patio furniture because you moved all the f****** Christmas crap in! It’s getting earlier every year!”

    (I decide not to point out that it’s almost December and instead try a different approach.)

    Me: “Well, ma’am, I think they try to do that so the regular, working person can have a good Christmas. I mean, it costs a lot of money to buy the tree, the lights, and presents all at once. But if we get the stuff out early, people can buy a bit each week and have a pretty good spread by Christmas.”

    Customer: “Ugh! If they can’t afford everything at once, they just shouldn’t celebrate! Poor people don’t deserve Christmas!”

    (I am stunned as the customer grabs her item off the counter and stomps away. The next customer behind her dumps an entire pile of wrapping paper and bows on the counter.)

    Next Customer: *loudly* “Yeah! Didn’t you know Jesus, the Savior of mankind, was born in a five-star hotel?”

    Store Of The D***ed, Part 2

    | Monticello, MN, USA | At The Checkout, Bigotry, Crazy Requests, Religion

    (I work at a grocery/retail store that has a somewhat relaxed dress code for the cashiers. It is quite hot both inside and outside the store. Many of my female coworkers are wearing less clothing than usual. A customer comes to my check lane and unloads her groceries.)

    Customer: “Oh, thank God. SOMEBODY around here knows how to dress in a way that pleases the Lord!”

    (Right away, I know this is going to be unpleasant. I’m a transgender man with no religious belief.)

    Customer: “All of these god-d*** heathens dress like streetwalkers! I’m so glad I found someone uncontaminated to handle my food!”

    Me: “I’m sorry. Did you say ‘uncontaminated?’”

    Customer: “Why, yes, dearie. Those worthless w****s you have to work with are contaminated by the devil! It’s too bad you have spend so much time around them, but I understand times are tough.”

    Me: “Actually, I enjoy working here. I have excellent pay, flexible hours, and the opportunity to be part of a great team. I’ve made friends with several of my coworkers, and we regularly spend time together outside of work.”

    Customer: “Oh, dearie, you know you shouldn’t yoke yourself to an unbeliever! But I suppose it’s hard to lead some to Christ if you don’t know them very well.”

    (At this point, I’m finished scanning and bagging her groceries. She pays with her card and turns to me.)

    Customer: “You know, young lady. I just feel so bad for you. You’re stuck in this awful, godless place, and I just—”

    (The customer rummages in her purse and pulls out two $5 bills.)

    Customer: “Take these are use them to do The Lord’s work!”

    Me: “I’m sorry, ma’am, but I can’t accept your money in good conscience. I happen to be one of those godless heathens you were upset about. Furthermore, I’m sorry to say that you have made a crucial flaw in your perception of me. I am not, as you said, a ‘young lady.’ I am a 21-year-old transgender man.”

    (The customer begins to shout various racial, homophobic, and trans-phobic slurs. My manager rushes over to find out what’s going on.)

    Customer: “THIS GODLESS C*** CONTAMINATED MY FOOD!”

    Manager: “Ma’am, you need stop verbally abusing the staff and leave the premises. If you don’t, I’ll be forced to call the police.”

    Customer: “HOW DARE YOU!? DO YOU KNOW WHO I AM!?”

    Manager: “No, ma’am, and quite frankly I don’t care. You’re shouting some of the vilest insults in the English language at one of my best cashiers. Get your s*** and leave. NOW!”

    (The customer flees, insulting both of us the whole time. The next customer in line has watched the situation unfold.)

    Next Customer: *to my manager* “Excuse me. Would it be alright if I gave you both a gift card? You deserve something nice after all that.”

    Me: “You don’t need to—”

    Manager: “Uh, okay. Sure.”

    Next Customer: “Here. Just [item] and two $25 gift cards for [coffee shop].”

    (When the friendly customer gives me the gift card, his number is written on the back. We’ve been dating for almost two years!)

    Related:
    Store Of The D***ed

    How To Make Grandma Nun Too Happy

    | Toronto, ON, Canada | At The Checkout, Bigotry, Family & Kids, Love/Romance, Top

    (I am Asian. I work as a cashier at a supermarket. Today I get one of my great-aunts in line. We chat as I am checking out her groceries.)

    Aunt: “So have you found anyone yet, [Name]?”

    Me: “Not yet, Auntie.”

    Aunt: “Well, [My Grandma] is getting anxious, you know. She wants great-grandchildren.”

    Me: “She already has great-grandchildren, Auntie. My cousins have kids, remember?”

    Aunt: “Then, your parents! They want to see you married and settled with grandchildren!”

    (My parents have never made any such demands of me, nor made any indication of such being expected. I remain calm and polite, as I am still at work and my great-aunt is a paying customer.)

    Me: *changing the subject slightly* “I think my sister would have something to say about that!”

    (My sister is both older than me and already married.)

    Aunt: “Oh, yes, that’s right! She did the right thing, you know; marrying properly.”

    Me: “I’m sorry?”

    Aunt: “She married that nice [regional Chinese] boy. Not just [other Chinese], but [regional Chinese], like us. Proper. Your grandma said so.”

    (I am appalled, all the more so because she’s utterly sincere.)

    Me: “…I thought she was joking?”

    Aunt: “Oh no! Very serious. She was quite upset when [My Cousin] married that Vietnamese boy. And all these others, gwailo (white people) and…”

    (She goes on a tirade about not marrying outside the group. I am speechless.)

    Me: “Your total is [amount], Auntie.”

    Aunt: “Oh, I bought too much again! Ah, the boys will eat it. See you soon, [My Name]!”

    (I automatically wave goodbye, still dumbfounded. Finally, she’s bagged her things and gone.)

    Me: *thinking out loud* “Screw this. I might as well join a convent.”

    Next Customer: “I don’t think that’d work for a bright young girl like you, sweetheart.”

    (It is at this point I realize both my new customers are wearing habits and veils.)

    Me: “Oh, crap! Sorry, Sisters.”

    Nun #1: “Don’t be!”

    Nun #2: “We heard what she said. You love who want, when you want, in your own good time.”

    Nun #1: “Besides, running off to a convent doesn’t work like that these days. You need a vocation.”

    (She leans forward to take my hand.)

    Nun #1: “And convent life isn’t all that cracked up to be! You’re a good girl, and a lovely person. We always look for you when we stop by, you know. Take your time to figure out your path.”

    Nun #2: “And if it does lead to us, at least you’ll be prepared! Either way, have faith. Bless you, dear!”

    (I finish ringing them up, and they go on their way. My supervisor walks over.)

    Supervisor: “You all right?”

    (I shrug, dazed.)

    Supervisor: “Go take your break. You’re due for one, anyway.”

    (One of the weirdest and most heartwarming shifts I ever had!)

    The Race Card Is Double Sided

    | Mobile, AL, USA | Bigotry, Food & Drink, Top

    (My husband and I are new to the area. We are trying out a popular fried chicken restaurant that is on a side of town primarily occupied by black people. I am white, and my husband is Mexican.)

    Me: “This chicken is great!”

    Husband: “Yeah, but it’d be better with some hot sauce! I’ll go get some!”

    (I slide out of the booth we are in to let him out. As I step back I accidentally bump another patron who is walking back up front to refill his drink. He drops his cup.)

    Me: “Oops! I’m sorry!”

    Customer: *glaring at me* “What’s wrong with you? You in the wrong side of town. You think you can hit me just cuz I’m black?! Racist b****!”

    (My husband is about to intervene, but I speak up.)

    Me: “You think you can say that just because I’m white?”

    Customer: *long pause* “…say what?”

    Me: “You think you can claim I’m racist just because I’m white?”

    Customer: “I… you… what?”

    Me: “Seeing as how my husband is Mexican, I don’t think you can cry racism on this one, man. Nice try.”

    (I pick up his cup and get a whiff of what he was drinking.)

    Me: “What were you drinking? Sprite?”

    Customer: “…yeah.”

    (I go refill his drink for him and hand it back to him with a smile on my face.)

    Me: “There ya go.”

    Customer: “You pretty nice, for a cracker.”

    Me: “You’re pretty nice, for someone so ignorant. Racism works both ways, man. Don’t let it—”

    Customer: “—yeah. Okay. Sorry.”

    (Thankfully, my husband and I finish our meals without any more interruptions.)

    Poorly Perceived

    | NY, USA | Bad Behavior, Bigotry, Money, Top

    (I work at a restaurant in a very rich town, in which I also live. I am getting my hair done at a ‘posh’ salon when I see one of my regulars from the restaurant sitting in the first chair.)

    Me: “Hello Mrs. [Name]. Good to see you.”

    Customer: “Oh hel— aren’t you my waitress from the place down the road?”

    Me: “Yes, I am. How are you doing today?”

    Customer: “I didn’t know people like you were allowed in a place like this.”

    Me: “Excuse me?”

    (At this point my stylist comes over to bring me to her station.)

    Customer: *to stylist* “Honey, did you know this girl is a waitress? Are you sure she has enough money to pay? You may want to check before you start serving her.”

    Stylist: “Ma’am, [My Name] has been a client here for two years. She’s very reliable.”

    Customer: “Oh my. What a waste of money. Poor girls like you should not be wasting their money on things like this. Don’t you have a child to care for or something of the like?”

    (At this point everyone in the salon is quite uncomfortable and is staring at the three of us.)

    Me: “I’m so sorry Mrs. [Name]. I actually only work at the restaurant because I don’t like to spend my time being unproductive. You see, I am a college student at [very prestigious college]. I am currently studying to be a biomedical engineer, which I’ll have you know is the second top grossing career currently. And since it seems to matter to you so much, I’m quite financially comfortable! And even if I were a poor waitress, as you so kindly suggested, people are free to do whatever they like with the money they work so hard for! Your husband comes in twice a week to get coffee and sit at our counter and complain about you! So really, Mrs. [Name], I’m very, very sorry for you.”

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