Hasn’t Got A Printed Leg To Stand On

(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.”