I create a slide deck for a client and am given this feedback:
Client: This word analysis. Change it to survey or review or something.
Me: “What’s the reason?”
Client: “Well, I’m not gay or anything like that, but all I see when I read the word analysis is anal.”
Me: “Would you be satisfied with probe?”
I work in a call center for a large chain grocery company. When a customer calls in, we need to verify two pieces of information minimum to access an account, unless it’s a new club card, where we just need the card number. From the start, I get a feeling with this customer.
Customer: “I got a new club card and I wanna get the information updated.”
Me: “I can help out with that, not a problem. What’s the number?”
I get the number and see it’s already filled out.
Me: “What’s the name on the card?”
The customer gives me a name that isn’t on the card.
Me: “Any other names?”
Customer: “Nope, no others. Just me.”
Me: “What’s the phone number?”
Customer: “It’s probably a really old phone number. Haven’t used it in years. It’s [number that isn’t on the card].”
Me: “I’m sorry, this club card already has information filled out and it doesn’t match any of the information you provided me.”
Customer: *Suddenly very frustrated* “Get me a supervisor. I’m not gonna have no female playing me like this and telling me that this ain’t my card and giving me this runaround.”
Me: “A supervisor will say the same thing.”
Customer: “I don’t care. Get me a supervisor. I want to speak to a man. Ain’t no woman messing with me this way!”
Me: *Gritting my teeth* “Please hold.”
I don’t give him a chance to respond and dial the line to get a supervisor. This is my first ever openly sexist call and I’m shaking with anger. Somehow, I keep my voice somewhat pleasant when a supervisor picks up. Unfortunately, it’s a guy; fortunately, he’s at least on my team.
Supervisor: “This is [Supervisor].”
I give the supervisor a brief rundown of what happened, including the comment saying that the customer said that he specifically didn’t want a woman helping him.
Supervisor: “And did he say how he got this card?”
Me: “He did not provide it. He just said he needed the information updated.”
Supervisor: “Hmm. All right, send him over.”
I transferred the call. I have no idea how it ended up, but I took a restroom break because I still was annoyed. Reflecting back, I guess that the card was stolen or found somewhere.
Still, what was that guy’s problem?
It is 2018. I am working concessions at a movie theater. I’m stationed at the popcorn, which is the first thing you encounter at this theater. A man walks into the concession stand area but he stays back as he’s talking on the phone. I smile and give him a nod to show that I see him and am ready to help him whenever he’s ready. He doesn’t acknowledge me and continues talking for about five minutes before a woman walks up that wants popcorn. She waits a moment to see if he’s going to order but he keeps talking on the phone.
Me: “Sir, I just want to make sure whether or not you’re ready before I help this next customer?”
He doesn’t respond, just kind of turns to the side and continues his conversation. The woman and I shrug, and I go about helping her. She is very pleasant and nice to chat with. She has barely finished walking away when this man steps up and smacks the counter before starting to rant at me.
Customer: “Are you kidding me?! I’ve been standing there for more than five minutes and you help her before me?”
This man is a white male and the woman is black. It’s important because the way he said “her” was as if he was referring to some disgusting being.
Me: “Sir, I apologize if there was some confusion, but you didn’t seem ready to order. When you first approached my area, I smiled at you and nodded to acknowledge you since you were on the phone. I stood here for at least five minutes while you stood back and continued your phone conversation. Not once did you try to order or even indicate you were ready!”
Customer: “Well, I was here first!”
Me: “I understand, sir. That’s why when the other customer came up, I asked you if you were ready. You chose not to respond and turned away from me, so I had no choice but to help the waiting customer. I’m sorry you feel that was unfair but I’m not going to make another customer wait just because you chose to ignore me. Now, would you like to order some popcorn?”
He huffs and puffs for a few seconds before ordering a large popcorn. About ten minutes later, he returns, one of my managers following behind looking exhausted. As they approach the popcorn station, this man proclaims:
Customer: “That’s her! That’s the girl that was discriminating against me!”
Me: “Excuse me?!”
Customer: “She saw my shirt and discriminated against me!”
He is wearing a jacket that is zipped more than halfway up and I have no idea what shirt he is wearing. I turn to my manager.
Me: “I haven’t seen his shirt. His jacket was zipped like that the whole time; you can check the cameras.”
Manager: *To the customer* “Why do you think she was discriminating against you based on your shirt?”
He yanks the zipper down to reveal a homemade shirt emblazoned with:
Shirt: “TRUMP 2020! F*** THE LIBTARDS!”
Me: *Remaining stone-faced* “Sir, this is the first time I’ve been able to see your shirt. I really don’t care what you wear; have a great day.”
I told my manager I was taking my lunch break and walked in the back as the customer continued to rant about how “YOU F****** LIBERALS JUST WANT TO CENSOR EVERYONE! F*** YOU, LIBERAL B****!”
He was escorted out, without a refund, by security!
My mom is originally from a town in Tennessee where interracial relationships are generally frowned upon. It didn’t rest well with her when I started dating a fellow black student in one of my classes at a community college.
Mom: “I just want the best for you! This is gonna end badly for you, and I don’t want you to end up in jail, a single mother, or dead!”
I counter her to stop with her racial stereotypes.
Mom: “Okay, what about when he wants to go to Detroit? You know how dangerous it is over there?”
Me: “First off, he was born and raised here and doesn’t know a single soul in Detroit, and second, he’s commented several times that he’d never even stop in Detroit for a hot dog because of the deplorable state it’s in.”
Mom: “Or maybe vacation in Compton or Philadelphia…”
Me: “Are you being serious? Really?”
Mom: “Okay, here’s a serious one. No exaggeration. What if you get pulled over with him, the officer runs his name, and he has warrants. The officer searches him and finds a bunch of marijuana on him? Do you know that they can legally confiscate your car and charge you with conspiracy?”
Me: “First of all, he doesn’t even smoke cigarettes, let alone weed. Second, he’s trying to get into the military and you know they drug test all recruits and require a clean criminal history. Third, I didn’t see you disowning [Older Sister] when she got busted for possession a while back!”
Mom: “Okay, you said he’s going to school full-time right now. How is he supporting himself financially?”
I sense the “sponging off handouts” bait, since he uses grants, scholarships, and student loans, and I’m not about to fall for it.
Me: “The same way I do!”
Mom: “Has he shown you proof?”
Me: “It’s none of my business! Did you run a full background check on Dad before you started dating him?”
Mom continues with more stereotypical babble.
Mom: “I just don’t want you to be labeled and ruined for life. No one anywhere will respect you.”
She goes on and on.
Mom: “My sister’s aunt’s best friend’s dog walker’s friend so and so married a black man. Word got around and she was passively fired from her job. I mean, do you want to go to your mailbox and find a letter stating you’ve been expelled from school? Or for every employer you apply with to see your Myspace and Facebook with the two of you together and automatically toss your resume in the shredder? I’m being serious here!”
And so on. This was back in 2010 before people seriously began confronting racism head-on, but it always mystifies me how someone could be filled with so much irrational bigotry and eat these persistent decades-old stereotypes like candy.
He and I broke up a year later for completely unrelated reasons, but my mom DOES know that it doesn’t change my position one iota.
I’m working in a theme park that features a world showcase of eleven countries, and each of those countries is staffed by actual citizens of those countries; it’s a cultural representation program. I’m from Canada and so am working in the Canadian Pavilion.
Me: “Hello, how are you?”
Guest: “Where are you from?”
Me: “Alberta, Canada.”
Guest: “But you’re now American?”
Me: “No, still Canadian. The Countries in the World Showcase are staffed by people from the actual country; this way we can represent and teach about our country.”
Guest: *Starting to get mad* “Then you took a job away from my son.”
Me: “Oh, I’m sorry. Are you guys Canadian and he wasn’t chosen to participate in the program?”
Guest: “No, we’re true Americans that live here in Florida and my son can’t get a job here! If you illegals weren’t taking jobs here, then he could get a job here!”
Me: “Sir, I’m sorry to hear about your son, but the point of the program is so the countries have true representation and not people faking knowing about Canada or the other countries.”
Guest: “This is America, so it should be Americans first!”
Me: “I’m sorry, I really don’t know what else to tell you. Your son can always try again at the hiring department.”
Guest: “Yeah, he should and then he can take your job.”
Me: “Sorry, sir, he can’t. He’s not Canadian and only Canadians can work in the pavilion.”
At that moment, my Canadian manager — we have three that walk around the showcase and check on the staff; one’s American, one’s Canadian, and one’s French — comes in and asks a coworker what’s going on and then comes over to me and the guest.
Manager: “Hello, sir, what seems to be the problem?”
The guest looks at the manager and sees his name tag says he’s from Ontario, Canada.
Guest: “F*** this.”
As he walks away, my manager looks at me for an explanation.
Me: “Perfect timing. You just proved to him that only Canadians can work in Canada.”
Related:
Blame Canada! Part 11
Blame Canada! Part 10
Blame Canada! Part 9
Blame Canada! Part 8
Blame Canada! Part 7
