Stereotypes Are A Bigot’s Best Friend
(Born and raised in Donegal, Ireland, I moved to Canada in my late teens. I still carry an extremely thick accent. I am working my first day at a call center and pick up the phone.)
Me: “Hello, my name is Danny; how can I help you?”
Customer: “I’m sorry; what did you say? Your name is Darry?”
Me: “My name is Danny, sir. Short form of Daniel.”
Customer: “Wait, are you a Scotsman?”
Me: “Irishman, sir.”
Customer: “Oh, f***’s sake! Put me on the phone with someone who can help me.”
Me: “Well, sir, I am new to this profession, but I assure you that I’ll—”
Customer: “No, just shut up and get me an American! You can go get drunk off an a**-load of whiskey that you pale f***s live for.”
Me: “Sir, with all due respect, I work in a Canadian call center, and therefore most of the workers here are Canadian, not American.”
Customer: “I can’t understand you! You’re slurring because of how f****** drunk you always are! Go get me your boss, ya f****** leprechaun!”
(I proceed to put my boss on the phone, who happens to be an African-American.)
Customer: “Sir, my call was just answered by an Irishman.”
(My boss raises an eyebrow at me, and I shrug.)
Boss: “Yes, and?”
Customer: “And I want to make that next time I call, I don’t end up with a n****** on the other end. Real people should be doing this kind of work. I’m sure you’re a respectable man who will think about this.”
Boss: “Actually, sir, I happen to be black.”
Customer: “Oh, s***!” *hangs up*
This story is part of our Juneteenth roundup!
Question of the Week
Tell us your story about a customer who couldn't understand the most simple concept.
