Sadly, There IS A Doctor In The House

(I work at a very upscale store in Manhattan. A lot of our clientele are successful business folk with expensive tastes.)

Manager: “Hey, [My Name], can you come over here a moment?”

(I walk over to where a sour faced female customer in a pricey but nondescript business suit is giving me a death glare.)

Manager: “Is this the gentleman who served you?”

Customer: “That’s him! You are a disgrace, you know that?”

Me: “I… um… I’m sorry, but what did I do to upset you?”

Customer: “Are you serious? The entire transaction you constantly referred to me as ‘ma’am’ and ‘miss’!”

Me: *now even more confused* “Yes, I was being polite?”

Customer: “Polite? I’m a doctor you idiot! DOC-TOR! Can you say that word? Doooc-tooor? Do you know what it means?”

Me: “Yes, ma’am, I know what—”

Customer: “There you go again! It’s DOCTOR! Not ma’am!” *to my manager* “Seriously, is this what [Clothing Store] has been reduced to?”

Manager: “Uh, first off, ma’am…”

Customer: “DOCTOR!”

Manager: “Right, doctor, did you perchance tell my associate that you wished to be addressed as such?”

Customer: “Well, no. He should’ve known!”

Manager: “Really? Did you show him any ID confirming you were a doctor?”

Customer: “No, I shouldn’t have to.”

Manager: “Is your title stated anywhere? Say on your driver’s license?”

Customer: “No.”

Manager: “Then, may I ask, how is he supposed to know you’re a doctor if you didn’t give him any indication of such?”

Customer: “What? Well I’m wearing a nice and expensive suit for one!”

Manager: “Uh… so is every other customer in the store currently, ma’am.”

Customer: “IT’S DOCTOR! NOT MA’AM! You know what? Forget it! I’m never shopping here again if you’re all this incompetent!”

(She storms out.)

Me: “So… am I in trouble?”

Manager: “Oh, no… Well, unless you’re unlucky enough to visit whatever medical practice she works at. Geeez!”