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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.

Hasn’t Got A Printed Leg To Stand On

| Washington, DC, USA | Bigotry, Bizarre

(I work at a clothing store that sells ‘club’ clothes and party dresses. I am one of the only white girls that works here.)

Customer: “Do you work here?”

Me: “Yeah. What can I help you with?”

Customer: “Do you know where… Oh, never mind. You probably don’t know.”

Me: “Uh… I know where mostly everything is. What is it you’re looking for?”

Customer: “Never mind. I’ll find it myself!”

(The customer storms off. A few minutes go by, and the customer approaches one of my African-American coworkers.)

Customer: “Hey, do you have printed leggings?”

Coworker: “No, we don’t carry those.”

Customer: “Well, your white coworker told me you have them!”

Me: “Ma’am, you wouldn’t even let me answer you. I know we don’t have them.”

Customer: “Ugh, whatever.” *storms out again*

Me: *to coworker* “What just happened?”

Coworker: “You just witnessed racism.”

Not A Fan Of Fairytales

| Dubbo, NSW, Australia | Bigotry, Bizarre

(My store has regular dress up days, and today is St Patrick’s Day. I go all out with a green wig, fairy skirt, stockings, and makeup. A male customer in his 60s stops me.)

Customer: “Why are you green?”

Me: “I’m a leprechaun!”

Customer: “You’ll die soon then.”

Me: “Why?!”

Customer: “Leprechauns die at the end of the day!”

Me: “Oh, how about an Irish fairy? Will I last longer then?”

Customer: “Nah, because I’ll shoot you.”

Me: “Excuse me?”

Customer: “I don’t mean real fairies. I mean the gays!”

Me: “Oh. Well, I’m both, then. Have a nice day!”

Needs To Pour Oil Over Troubled Water

| LA, USA | Bigotry, Extra Stupid, Technology, Transportation

Customer: “I need to know where the motor oil is.”

(I tell her, but she comes back to the counter with a bottle of transmission fluid.)

Me: “Ma’am, that’s not oil. It’s transmission fluid.”

Customer: “What do you know about it? You’re a girl. Just ring me up.”

(I ring her up. She pays and goes outside, pops the hood of her car, and gets on the phone. Two minutes later, she’s back.)

Customer: “I needed oil. You sold me the wrong thing. I need to exchange this.”

Me: “Okay. Do you need some help? It’s slow. I can do this for you.”

Customer: “What, do you think you know about cars? I’m on the phone with my husband and he knows more about it than you do. Just do the d*** exchange so I can get some oil.”

(I do the exchange. She comes back up with oil.)

Me: “Ma’am, that’s 50 weight. You don’t want that, you want 40 weight.”

Customer: “This is what my husband said to get.”

Me: “Oookay. Are you sure you wouldn’t like me to help?”

Customer: “No. You’re a girl and you don’t know what you’re talking about. My husband works for [Company] and he knows way more about it than some clerk!”

Me: “Well, maybe he does, Ma’am, but he’s not here.”

Customer: “Just ring me up.”

Me: “Okay, if you’re sure you don’t need help.”

Customer: “I don’t need your help.”

Me: “Yes, Ma’am. You have a nice day, now.”

Customer: “Whatever.”

(I watch through the front window as she went back to her SUV and smugly poured her oil… into her radiator. I wonder what her husband said when her engine blew up halfway across the causeway.)