Unfiltered Story #216002

I work at a boarding kennel where people take their pets to be looked after while they’re on holiday or working. On this particular morning, there are four customers in our reception area. Customer 1 is a young girl with special needs and her mother. Customer 2 is my hero. Customer 3 is a bitter, mean-spirited hag. It should be noted, the girl with special needs has short cut hair that has been dyed in a mix of pink, purple and blue. She obviously finds communication difficult but she’s always polite. With her mother’s encouragement, she answers the questions I need to ask about her cat and even manages a shy smile as I take the box from her. I leave my coworker to process payment while I take the cat to get settled, coming back just in time to see the girl’s mother already outside while the girl steps back, holding the door open for the hag to enter.

Hag: *swoops in with an exaggerated huff of disgust* teenagers these days, am I right? They have no respect for anyone. (At first, I assume something must have happened prior to her visit since nothing I’ve witnessed could be seen as remotely disrespectful)

Me: I’m sorry?

Hag: Well, fancy doing that to her hair, why should I have to look at an ugly *lesbian slur* like that?

(I’m both stunned and outraged, trying to find words that won’t get me fired while secretly desperate to tell her what I really think. The girl in the doorway was already upset having to leave her cat and is now on the verge of tears.)

My Hero: *an older gentleman with shock-white hair and an infectious smile, suddenly turned to a stoney glare* Get your eyes tested, you old hag. She looks great. I might get my hair done like that, *to the girl* do you think it would suit me? I mean I’m not as pretty as you, but it might look cool? Or I could have green, orange and red, I’d look like a fruit salad!

(The girl went from tears to giggles in seconds and nodded enthusiastically at his suggestion for what colours he might try in his hair and the hag ended up storming out in disgust, we never learned why she was there in the first place.)

Thank you, Sir, for saying what I couldn’t and for putting a smile back on that girl’s face.