Unfiltered Story #262224

This happened about a year ago. For context, I’m twenty-five, left handed, autistic, and am currently bagging for a coworker (a supervisor) who is a close friend of mine. I’ve also worked at this store for four years, so they are all well aware of my condition. I tend to like things just so and I like to make them as perfect as I can, so I’m aware I work slower than my peers. Not being able to do so gives me anxiety.

I’m bagging for a man around my age, who has been staring at me up and down. When I notice this, he instantly tries to make eye contact, so I quickly turn away and try to ignore it.

Customer: You know, you’d really go a lot faster if you’d use your right hand to bag my groceries. I swear, you’re the slowest I’ve ever seen here.

Me: No, I’d be slower. I’m left handed.

Customer: You just want to be different. Left handed people aren’t really a thing. Come on, hurry up! I haven’t got all day!

Coworker: Sir, please leave her alone. She’s doing her best.

Customer: But she’s *soooooooooo* slow!

Coworker: Do you want her to shove all your items in a bag in any way she can?

Customer: Is that any way to serve a customer? Quit defending the left-handed retard and get someone who can serve me better! I know what she is. She’s too slow to not be one. It’s all in her head. Sucks, too. You know, if you weren’t retarded, you’d be really hot.

Me: Oh, uh, thanks, I guess. Here. I finished bagging.

Customer: Finally! My food better not be crushed… oh…

He opened the bag to find everything organized and packed neatly. He’d only been waiting for an additional twenty or thirty seconds. I’m slow, but I can still keep up with the line.

Customer: Um, thanks… (my name). So, how about a date? I can put your mental illness aside.

Coworker: What? Just go. Now.

He sheepishly leaves. When he left, my coworker and I could not help but laugh.