Pregnant With Discrimination

, , , | Learning | June 21, 2017

I’m four months pregnant with my son. Though I’m not very far along, I’m showing quite a bit, and it’s become difficult to sit in the normal desks of the lecture hall. One day, I get tired of squeezing into them and just sit in the handicapped desks (which have been unoccupied all semester). It happens that, on this day, we start having a guest lecturer, since our professor had to get surgery mid-semester.

The lecturer stops me after class and berates me for sitting in a handicapped spot. I explain that I don’t fit into the other desks, and that it’s the only spot that can fit me. She proceeds to tell me that she doesn’t care, that I should just sit in the normal desks.

Next class, I sit at a normal desk in the front row sideways (since that’s literally the only way I fit). After class, the lecturer once again berates me and tells me to sit properly. I once again, tell her that I’m pregnant and there’s nothing I can really do. She then proceeds to tell me to lose weight, or my baby will end up being a “fat roll.”

Upset, I email my professor, asking for advice on what to do. I don’t get a response. However, I return to class for the next lesson and sit in the handicapped spot, unwilling to be uncomfortable for a two-hour lecture. When the lecture is over and the lecturer is berating me again, and a man in a suit comes up behind her and asks her to join him in the hallway.

Turned out, my original professor was very unimpressed by this behavior, and sent a anti-discrimination representative to observe her behavior. After her proving my claims correct, the man informed her that her behavior could land her in a whole lot of trouble with the code of conduct, and get her fired. She said nothing to me for the rest of the time she lectured us. Thankfully, she was the only professor to ever care or comment that I was pregnant.

Trying To Make A Clean Break

, , , , | Right | June 20, 2017

(I work at a movie theater as an usher and part of my job is cleaning after the movie is out. There are only three boys of around 10-13 years in one of the screens and we’re all already pretty suspicious, as all of them bought our jumbo buckets of popcorn.)

Coworker: “I bet they’re gonna throw the popcorn.”

Me: “Yep, definitely.”

(As we keep an eye on the monitors behind our tills, we see some popcorn flying.)

Me: “Knew it.”

(I rush to the screen, enter the room, and watch the boys throw their popcorn at the screen. As the movie finishes I stand in front of the closed door, two vacuums beside me.)

Me: *sweetly* “Well, since you’re having so much fun, would you mind helping me clean the mess you made?”

Boy #1: “Are you f****** insane?”

Boy #2: “Yeah. It’s your job to clean, b****!”

(The third boy keeps nodding and empties the rest of his bucket in front of my feet.)

Me: “Well… it is my job indeed. But you know, I was kind enough to watch you throw that popcorn for almost two hours, when I could have kicked you out immediately. So either you start cleaning now, or you will never ever step into our theater again. I don’t know you or your parents, but since I’ve seen you coming here pretty often, I think you would want to use our service again, am I right?”

Boy #1: “I’m gonna complain to your boss! I’ll get you fired! You are just too stupid to do your own job, b****!”

(They start vacuuming the whole screen. I let them do every row and follow them back out. They rush towards a woman who seems to be one of the boy’s mother.)

Boy #3: “She made us clean the entire screen! Get her fired now, Mom! She’s crazy! She made me f****** clean everything!”

Me: “Excuse me, miss. Those boys were alone and started throwing popcorn everywhere. I’m wondering if they ate anything out of their 21€ purchase. I made them vacuum everything since the theater was clean before and I do not clean after such rude customers if I see what’s happening.”

Boy #3: “See! This b**** made us do her f****** job!”

Mother: “Oh, really?” *looking at me* “Thank you. I guess they needed that. Boys, shut up or you’ll never go to the movies again!”

(This mother’s reaction really made my day and I saw her get back at the still-pissed boys outside of the cinema. Never felt so good to see a kid put back in its place.)

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Not Talking Enough Turkey

, , , , | Right | June 20, 2017

(I work in a restaurant that sells turkey meals. One Saturday, just as I’m about to get off, a man walks in.)

Me: “Hello! What can I get for you today?”

Customer: “I’ll have a turkey meal.”

Me: “Would you like gravy with that?”

Customer: “Did I ask for gravy?”

Me: “I’m sorry, but I had to ask. Would you like any sides?”

Customer: “Are you f****** deaf or something? I said I wanted turkey.”

(I can tell the customer is getting agitated and I am trying to remain calm. I move over to the register to ring up his order.)

Me: “Sir, would you like a drink?”

Customer: “God, you are so f****** stupid! I SAID I WANTED TURKEY!”

(The man begins to yell a long string of curse words and the manager is called. At this point I’m on the verge of tears.)

Manager: “Is there a problem?”

Customer: “F*** YEAH, THERE’S A PROBLEM!”

(The customer continues to scream curses at me. The manager turns to me.)

Manager: “Is there a problem?”

Me: “I asked him if he wanted gravy, sides, and a drink.”

(The manager tells me to go wait in the back and continues to ring up the customer’s order while he is still screaming. After the customer leaves, the manager comes to see me.)

Manager: “I’m so sorry.”

Me: “What was that?”

Coworker: “You just met the Turkey Guy.”

(It turned out this guy came in every Saturday and ordered the same thing every time. Now I know why no one wanted to work Saturdays.)

Not A Glass Act

, , , | Right | June 20, 2017

(For a while we had these bouncy balls with pretend fish in them and when one was on its stand it would look like the fish were swimming. An eight- or nine-year-old boy grabs one and bounces it hard on the ground.)

Boy: *looking disappointed* “Aw, I thought it was glass.”

A Thief With Baggage

, , , , , | Right | June 20, 2017

(I am at a small-chain grocery store on one of their busiest days because they run significant discounts. I pick up a loaf of artisan bread, put it in my cart next to my reusable bags (in California, people often bring our own because store bags are at least 10 cents each), and take a number at the deli. While I am being served at the deli, somebody walks away with my cart. It happens sometimes when the store is crowded, so I don’t make a fuss about it, take another cart, and hope that my bags will be returned at the cash register when the erring customer discovers they took somebody else’s cart by mistake. About 20 minutes into my shopping, I hear angry screeching at the cash register, so, curious, I go to see what’s going on. Here is what I observe:)

Customer: “You are making me pay for things I did not put in the cart! You are trying to sell me this expensive bread, and I didn’t take it!”

Cashier: “I am sorry, ma’am. As I said, if you don’t want it, we can return it to the bakery. I already took it off.”

Customer: “You tried to cheat me! You tried to pass this bread on me! Who the h*** charges $4.99 for a loaf of bread?!”

Cashier: “This is artisan bread made fresh every couple of hours, but you do not have to pay for it, ma’am. We are going to take it back to the bakery.”

Customer: “You are thieves! I did not put this bread into my cart! You put it there!”

Cashier: “Ma’am, I am not saying you put it there. Maybe another customer did it by mistake, thinking it was their cart. We are not charging you for it. Can I process your payment now, please?”

Customer: “It’s enough that you are charging for bags now! Anything to make profit! Thieves!”

Cashier: “Ma’am, I have no control over the bag charge. It’s the state law. We are not charging you for the bread. Can you please pay for your order now?”

Customer: *suddenly calm* “Yes. And I don’t want any of your overpriced store bags. I have my own.”

(Too stunned to say anything, I saw the hag hand her MY reusable bags. They are quite distinctive because several of them are from the conferences I have attended in my profession over the past years, and one is from a fundraiser from my children’s school. It would be quite a bizarre coincidence for somebody else to have the exact same set of assorted reusable bags. Unfortunately, I was too flabbergasted to claim them, and the pilferer walked out of the store with them.)

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