(I used to work part time as a customer service ambassador at an airport. As a part-time worker I didn’t have a work phone and didn’t receive all the staff mails but the important ones were supposed to be sent to my private email. For the past few weekends I’d started at 5.30am and this morning I arrived at 5.25am.)

Team Leader: “[My Name], why are you late?”

Me: “I’m not. I’m five minutes early.”

Team Leader: “As of this week we’re supposed to meet 10 minutes before we start and report to the supervisor.”

Me: “I’m sorry, but I haven’t received any information about this.”

Team Leader: “Well, it was sent to all the employees to your work phones.”

Me: “I don’t have a work phone. I’m part time. And nothing was sent to my private email. So how was I to know?”

Team Leader: “I see, but why are you late?”

Me: “I didn’t know I was late!”

Team Leader: “Well, you should have known! I’m gonna have to write you up for this.”

(This kept happening over and over. Eventually I got tired of having to explain things I had no idea about so I quit.)

(My friend has spent over a year battling cancer, and due to the effects of almost a year in bed and a severe reaction to chemotherapy, she has to learn to walk again. On one of her trips home, we decide to go see a movie. She’s in a wheelchair, and I’m pushing.)

Friend: “Hello! We’d like two tickets to [Movie], please.”

Cashier: “Of course! With the discount, that’ll be [price].”

Me: “We get a discount? Awesome!” *I grin at my friend*

Cashier: *to me* “Yes, but I need your card first.”

Me: “Card? What card?”

Friend: “We don’t have whatever card you’re talking about.”

Cashier: “But you should bring your card for trips like this. It gets the companion a discount on their ticket.”

(Suddenly, I understand what’s going on. She’s referring to a carer’s card.)

Me: “Ah… I’m afraid you’re mistaken. I’m just here as a friend. We don’t have a card.”

(I quickly explain what the cashier is talking about to my friend.)

Cashier: “You can’t get the discount without the card.”

Friend: “I don’t have one. Can we just buy the tickets, please?”

Cashier: “Unless you can show me the card, I can’t give you the discount.”

Me: “No, I’m not here to accompany her. I’m really her friend. We’re going together.”

Friend: “Exactly what she says! I don’t have a card because I’m not disabled!”

Cashier: “You really do need to show me the card for this.”

(At this point, my friend is getting genuinely upset, and I’m not happy, either.)

Me: “Listen to me. I am her friend. She’s been ill, but this is not permanent. She’s getting out of the chair again, and she does not have a card.”

(You can see the cashier suddenly understand.)

Cashier: “I am so sorry! I didn’t mean to upset you!”

Friend: “It’s okay. I’d just like our tickets.”

Cashier: “Of course! I’ll get you a different discount as an apology. Feel free to sit anywhere in the theatre. There’s hardly any people.”

Me: “Thank you. That’s very kind.”

(We get our tickets, and because there’s still 30 minutes until the movie starts, we decide to head to a store down the street for snacks. Once we’re outside…)

Friend: “Hey, did you see what kind of discount we got?” *shows me her ticket* “Look, apparently we’re retired!”

(We had a good laugh about it, and enjoyed the movie as two ‘retirees’ in our early 20s!)

This story is included in our Wheelchairs Versus Ableism roundup!

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(I work in an appliance parts store. In order to complete a transaction, we must fill out the name and phone number fields on the invoice. There is no way to continue if they are left blank. A man comes in and places a small pack of batteries on the counter.)

Me: “Is that all you need, sir?”

Customer: “Yep.”

Me: *starts typing* “Okay, the price is [price] plus tax. Can I get your name?”

Customer: “You don’t need that! I’m just getting batteries!”

Me: “Actually, sir, I have to—”

Customer: *THROWS the pack of batteries at me* “Keep your d*** part! You don’t need to know my name!”

Me: *catches the pack* “Sir, you don’t have to give me YOUR name. I just have to fill in a name or I can’t complete the transaction.”

Customer: “Okay, okay, fine…” *obviously making something up* “Sam Jones! This is ridiculous. Why do you people always want all kinds of information?”

Me: “I suppose it would be pointless for me to ask you for a phone number, right?”

Customer: *SIGH*

Me: “It’s fine, I’ll use our store number.”

Customer: “What do you people need all that for?! Its bull—”

Me: “The number is so that we can look up your invoice if there is a problem with your purchase.”

Customer: “I don’t need that! It’s just batteries!” *continues to grumble as I finish the transaction*

Me: “Okay, your total with tax is [total].”

Customer: *calmed down some* “Okay. Listen, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to get all ugly. It’s just I don’t like giving out all sorts of private information. I apologize.”

Me: “Thank you. I didn’t think you really needed to throw the batteries at me.”

Customer: “Oh, of course not. I’m so sorry.”

(He pays me and I give him his receipt.)

Customer: “You have a nice day now. And you know, that information stuff should really be optional. Most people aren’t ever gonna need you to pull up their invoice.”

Me: “Honestly, sir, most people really don’t have a problem with telling me their name.”

(He sputtered a bit, turned and left in a huff. I would have hated to have seen his reaction if he had paid with a credit card and I asked for his ID!)

(I work in a call center for a large insurance company. My desk partner has just gotten a call from an extremely irate man. He is trying to find anything he can use to insult her. She is Filipino, but she was born in the US. She has no accent to speak of and a very American name.)

Customer: “Are you even in America? Where are you located?”

Coworker: “I’m in our Florida office, sir.”

Customer: “Well at least you’re not some dot-head.”

Coworker: “I’m sorry?”

Customer: “Yeah, well, even if you ain’t foreign, you’re obviously an idiot working in a call center. I don’t have time to talk to some uneducated girl.”

Coworker: “Actually, sir, in addition to having a license to process insurance policies, I have a Master’s degree. So unless you have a Doctorate, I’m certain I’ve had more education than you, and I’m more than qualified to help you.”

Customer: “Oh… uh…”

(He didn’t have much to say after that, and I just sat there cackling.)

(This store is actually the second store of this chain I have worked at; the first closed down, and this was the very last day for this store, too. The assistant manager has been positioned outside the doors for the last 10 minutes to shoo very last minute customers, since we’re closing the doors about four hours early to begin cataloguing the entire store to get it all packed up. A family of four walks up, and starts to argue with him about wanting to come in to look.)

Assistant Manager: “I’m sorry, but we’re closing in 10 minutes, for good, and we can’t be open any later.”

Father: “But we drove three hours across state lines to visit THIS exact store.”

Assistant Manager: “Then, really, you should have been here earlier today, or earlier in the week, because we’ve been making everyone aware that this store was closing permanently today, at this hour, for months now.”