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Filing Complaints

Extras

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Addressed The Race Issue

| Edmonton, AB, Canada | Bigotry, Technology, Theme Of The Month, Top

(I work at a technical service call centre. A call is taken by an African-Canadian tech.)

Tech: “Thank you for calling [name of company]. My name is [name]. How can I help you?”

Caller: “Oh, thank God they gave me somebody white! The last time I called they expected me to talk to some stupid n*****.”

(The tech is perfectly calm.)

Tech: “Sorry about that, sir. How can I help you?”

(The call proceeds as normal. The tech troubleshoots with the caller, and decides new software is needed. He offers to ship the software.)

Tech: “Just to make sure, can I reconfirm your address?”

Caller: “Oh, sure. It’s [full street address].”

Tech: “Thank you. Oh, and before you go, you ought to know that I’m the biggest, blackest mother-f***** you’ll ever meet in your life, and I know where you live. Good day.”

Stared To Death

| Tolna, Hungary | Bizarre, Books & Reading

(I’m a regular at a small bookstore that a kindly old lady opened some years ago. We’ve been friends for as long as I’ve known her, and chat when there are no customers around. I walk up to the counter and see her talking to a woman in her late fifties. I’m an Emo, though uncharacteristically cheerful at the moment. I wear black, causal clothes most of the time.)

Me: “Good day, how’s it going?”

(She notices me, smiles, but motions me to move. Realizing I butted into their conversation, I sheepishly back away so they can continue. The customer is staring at me with her mouth wide open.)

Me: “Umm…”

(My friend and I exchange looks. I don’t believe she understands what’s going on either.)

Me: “I’m sorry; is something wrong?”

(The customer doesn’t answer or react in any way, and just keeps staring for what feels like minutes.)

Me: “…is there something on me?”

Customer: “…”

Me: “Lady?”

Customer: “…”

(My friend seems worried as she observes our rather one-sided conversation. I’m starting to get annoyed, and a little scared.)

Me: “It’s impolite to stare at others, you know.”

Customer: “…”

(At this point it occurs to me she could have issues with my hairstyle. I pull my bang aside, but nothing changes.)

Me: “Okay, what?”

Customer: “…”

Me: “What is it?!”

My Friend: “Ah, I know! It’s because you’re wearing black! She thinks you’re attending a funeral, and since you were so happy—”

(The customer immediately snaps out of it and confirms this. She actually thinks I am happy because someone died. After five years, we still talk about the woman whom my fashion statement sent into catatonia, and my friend, the store owner, who’s apparently psychic.)