Has Some Bag Boy Baggage

(I have just been operated on to remove a cancerous tumor. It was a minor surgery, but the location of the incision made walking somewhat uncomfortable, so I use a cane for a few weeks. On my way back to the computer department from a break, a woman stops me…)

Customer: *speaking slowly, carefully enunciating every syllable, and condescendingly polite* “Excuse me, young man.”

Me: “Yes?”

Customer: “Can you find someone to help me? I need to pick up a ROU-ter. It’s a thing for my com-PU-ter.”

Me: “Sure! Do you—”

Customer: “Someone in HERE—” *gestures at the computer department* “—might know about it.”

Me: “Got it. Are you looking for a wired router, wired gigabit, wireless B, wireless G, or wireless N?”

Customer: “Oh. Oh!” *she suddenly speaks normally* “Oh, I’m sorry!” *she gestures to my cane* “I thought… I thought you were, like, just a bag boy or something.”

Me: “Right… Let’s go look at those routers.”

(After that, she was like any other normal customer. I didn’t bother to comment on her ignorant assumptions that using a cane or that having a job as a “bag boy” was an indication of a mental handicap.)