A customer is trying to demand we accept a coupon for alcohol that we cannot legally take in my state. She’s spent nearly ten minutes berating my cashier before I’m made aware of the situation, so I head up to the registers as quickly as I can.

While I’m approaching, I hear:

Customer: “You can’t even do a decent job ringing things up! No wonder you’re working at [Store]! I bet you’ll never move past cashier with that hair color and those tattoos!”

My cashier in question has brown hair but has two stripes of peek-a-boo rainbow hair that’s hidden when she wears her hair down (though it’s worn up at this time and it’s visible), and one or two small visible tattoos.

Me: “I’m sorry, ma’am, I’m the manager, and I had heard that you had a problem? Maybe I can help fix it?”

The customer whirls around, an already smug grin on her face, and she gets a good look at me in all of my green-haired, tattooed, pierced glory.

Me: “You asked to speak to the manager, right? How can I help you?”

She left without another word, but I’ve never seen someone as red in the face in person as she was!

I work as a tech support rep. I am one of the more tenured people at this center, and other reps often come to me for help. I know what I am doing, but I have the unfortunate affliction of being female.

Me: “Your ticket has been closed. Your issue is a known issue. There is no estimated time of resolution, but we have enough reports that this is regarded as an ongoing issue and our backend teams will continue to work on it.”

Customer: “Okay, but I’d like to hear it from a tech.”

Me: “Sir, I am a tech.”

Customer: “Yes, but I want to hear it from a tech.”

Me: “Sir, I am a tech support representative. You are speaking to a tech.”

Customer: “Well, I just want to hear it from a tech.”

Me: “I. AM. A. TECH. You want to speak to a tech, and you are currently speaking to a tech, which is me.”

Customer: “I just want to hear it from a tech!”

Me: *Giving up* “Fine. I’ll have someone call you.”

I turn to a male coworker.

Me: “[Coworker], can you call this guy? I don’t want to make it sound like I’m being a drama queen, but he wants to hear it from a male. He keeps asking for a tech and refuses to believe I am one.”

Later:

Coworker: “Yeah, you were right. He was sexist.”

There’s no funny ending, no comeuppance. It’s just another story about the often-infuriating experience of someone assuming I don’t know anything because I’m a woman.

About a year ago, I would regularly go out for coffee with some of my coworkers. I stopped doing so after a while. These two stories are why.

Story #1:

Male Coworker #1: “Hey, [My Name], how’s it going?”

Me: “Ehh, been better. My daughter’s boyfriend just broke up with her, so she’s really down.”

Male Coworker #1: “Don’t worry; she’ll find someone else.”

Me: *Touched* “Yeah, I suppose you’re right—”

Male Coworker #1: “Women have a knack for finding their next meal ticket. She’ll have another boyfriend by the end of the week, guaranteed.”

Me: “…”

On another occasion, a different male coworker made some really disgusting, racist comments about a political figure I admire, and when I called him out on it, he insisted that he was “entitled to his opinion.” I got up and walked away.

And I haven’t been back.

My family and I are visiting the USA for a family holiday. Before this trip, my sister and I have never been to North America before in our lives. We live in the UAE, which is located in the middle east. My family is biracial; my dad is German/Brazilian and my mum is Indian. I’m bisexual, and the rest of my family is straight.

We are in the streets of New York, our final destination. This trip has simultaneously been the best and worst we have ever been on. It’s about 12:00 pm and some drag queens avidly speaking in Spanish walk by us, and a nearby man turns to speak to my father.

Man: “Can you believe those f****** [gay slur] [Mexican slur]s? This is why we need the walls — to keep the immigrants out of here.”

Dad: *Smiling* “That’s exactly my thought; the indigenous people need to finally take a stance. I mean, after what your ancestors did to them, it’s only common courtesy for you to go back to Europe.”

Man: “How f****** dare you?! My family built this country! Take your [Mexican slur] wife and kids and get out of here.”

Mum: “I’m from India.”

Man: *Pissed* “Whatever. You’re probably both [gay slur]s.”

I finally speak up.

Me: “No, that’s me.”

Surprisingly, he did not want to talk to us any longer, but the drag queens, who had heard everything, came up to us after and thanked us for standing up to him. They even bought my sister and me a hotdog!

I’m an artist set up at a convention. My boyfriend is with me, though he is not involved at all with the creation of my products. We’re both sitting at my booth when a guy comes up.

Customer: “Oh, cool, [Video Game] stickers!” *Looks at my boyfriend* “Do you have any [Character] stuff?”

Me: “I don’t with me, but I have some on my online store and I’m working on some new [Video Game] designs!”

The guy gives me a weird look and keeps looking at my boyfriend. He directs any questions to my boyfriend and seems offended when I answer most of them.

Customer: “Man, can you butt out? I wanna talk with the dude who made the stuff.”

Boyfriend: “Yeah, that’s her. I’m just here to help her out.”

Customer: “There’s no way. Girls don’t know anything about [Video Game]!”

I show him my tablet, where I’ve been working on some designs from said game.

Me: “Dude, keep your sexism at home.”

He quietly bought a whole set of stickers and dropped $5 in my tip jar.

Related:
Can’t Hear You Over The Sound Of Your Ovaries, Part 16
Can’t Hear You Over The Sound Of Your Ovaries, Part 15
Can’t Hear You Over The Sound Of Your Ovaries, Part 14
Can’t Hear You Over The Sound Of Your Ovaries, Part 13
Can’t Hear You Over The Sound Of Your Ovaries, Part 12