“Sir” Is My Father

(I have just finished dropping a pallet of frozen goods in my department, and am returning the empty manual forklift. A man is standing directly in my path with his back to me.)

Me: “Excuse me.”

Customer: *doesn’t hear*

Me: *a little louder* “Excuse me, sir, I need to get past.”

Customer: *moving out of the way* “Oh, sorry! But I’m not a ‘sir.’”

(I’m very sensitive to these things, being transgender myself. I’m about to say, “I’m sorry, ma’am,” when he speaks up again.)

Customer: “I’m more of a ‘hey, you!’”

(I just kept pulling my lift in stunned silence.)