I’m a female senior in college, and I’m majoring in a business-related field. I’m in a human resource management class. We’re learning about Title VII in the workplace.

Professor: “Any questions so far?”

A male student raises his hand. Our professor nods at him.

Guy #1: “Can we just admit that there are some jobs women shouldn’t do?”

All us girls start to protest. The professor shushes us.

Professor: “Not yet, ladies. Explain your reasoning, [Guy #1], and then I’m opening the floor for discussion.”

Guy #1: “Like, women should be nurses and kindergarten teachers and stay-at-home moms and s*** like that. There are some jobs they should leave for men, that are traditionally done by men.”

Every girl in the class is waving her hand in the air frantically. The professor points at me.

Professor: “All right, we’re gonna have a discussion. [Guy #1], remember that you started this. [My Name], thoughts?”

Me: “We’re all business-related majors here, right? Business is a field normally dominated by men. Look around. Half the class is female. Are you saying that we should not be here?” 

Guy #1: “No, of course not. Women can be in business, but not as, like, managers. That’s a guy thing. We need administrative assistants and crap like that.”

Our professor groans and facepalms.

Me: “See, that’s faulty logic, and a violation of federal regulations. Women can be in business, but not as managers? Anyone else wanna jump in here?”

Girl #1: “I will! So, [Guy #1], according to you, we should just toddle off to a stereotypical ‘female’ job?”

Guy #1: “That’s not what I said!”

The room erupts.

Girl #2: “OH, YES, YOU DID!”

Guy #1: “Okay, but I didn’t mean it like that.”

Girl #3: “Do you seriously think you’re gonna survive in the workplace with an attitude like that?”

Me: “What are you gonna do if you have a female manager? Tell her she’s not supposed to be there? I’d love to see that!”

[Guy #1] turns to [Guy #2], who is a friend of mine.

Guy #1: “[Guy #2]! Help me!”

Guy #2: *Laughs* “Nope. [My Name] got you. You’re screwed.”

Guy #1: *Whines* “Dr. [Professor]! Tell them to stop!”

Our professor has her hands over her face. I can’t tell if she’s shaking her head or laughing. Finally, she motions for quiet.

Professor: “[Guy #1], this is a Human Resources class. What you said today violates multiple federal regulations. You keep talking like that when you enter the workforce, you will not be employable, and your name will be in an HR lawsuit. Got it? Good. Now, let’s move on…”

[Guy #1] scowled and didn’t say a word in class again for a week.

This story is part of our International Women’s Day roundup!

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Due to the iffy public transport where I live, I usually have to wait about half an hour after my shift ends before I can catch the bus home. Therefore, I usually bring a book or two, and after my shift is done I read at one of the tables by the window.

One day, I’m done with my shift, so I sit at the table. I’ve got two books, one that I’m just finishing and one that I’m about to start. About five minutes later, two young men come in.

Customer #1: “I’m telling you, man, the only people who work in stores like these are kids or idiots! Or special needs weirdos.”

Customer #2: “Dude, you’re being an a**hole. Not everyone can afford Uni on their own. Most people need jobs like these.”

Customer #1: “Uni? Nah, no way any of these losers is at Uni. I’ll prove it.”

Sure enough, [Customer #1] walks up to me. I mentally sigh.

Customer #1: *Ridiculously loud and slow* “What are you reading?”

Me: *In a normal voice* “It’s an analysis of the opioids problem in the United States.”

He suddenly speaks in a normal voice, sounding a little put-off.

Customer #1: “Oh. But what about this one?”

Me: “My other book? An exploration of the use of submarine warfare during the Cold War and how it affected the evolution of submarines.”

Customer #2: “Wait, what kind of history degree are you doing?”

Me: “None? I’m doing primary teaching. This is just fun reading.”

Customer #1: “No way. No one reads these sorts of books for fun.”

My coworker, who is on the front register, decides to speak up.

Coworker: “Oh, this is nothing. Last week she was reading up on medieval torture devices.”

Oddly enough, the guys decided to leave me alone after that.

My native language is Portuguese, but I do speak English fairly well. My mom, however, can only speak Portuguese. Both of us go on a trip to London and, of course, I am always the only one doing all the talk for both of us.

We bought some “special cards” that grant us “free” entrance to a great variety of tourist attractions; it’s not exactly free, as we paid quite the sum for these cards, but it’s still cheaper than paying for every single attraction we visit.

We’re visiting an attraction that is very popular, so there is quite a queue. There is a Londoner lady in front of me. After a while, the lady steps out of the queue to look at some maps along our way. It isn’t like “one look to the side and then back to the queue.” No, she starts reading the freaking map while the queue advances. So, I take that as my cue to advance, too.

A few minutes later, when she finally notices that the queue has gone on without her, she locates my mother and me and proceeds to yell at us about how we cut her place in the queue.

Lady: “There’s a queue here! A line!”

Me: “Well, you stepped aside, so we just went on ahead.”

My mother asks me, in Portuguese, what is happening, and I tell her. The lady notices that we are not English speakers.

Lady: “Oh, you’re Spanish. There. Is. A. Queue. Line. Here.”

She pauses between every single word, despite the fact that I’ve been speaking English to her.

Me: “I know that! But you stepped aside, so…”

Then, suddenly…

Attraction Worker: “All the visitors holding the [special card], please come this way to the preferential queue!”

I prompt my mom to get her card, and the lady, seeing we both have the [special card], can’t help but say:

Lady: “You’re being called that way.”

Me: “Yes, I know. Excuse me, I’m going in first!”

I’m the manager of a local video game store. I’ve run it with no real problem for years and recently decided to expand to a couple of major card games. A few months after I do so, I have a guy come in to trade in a handful of singles. I’m a female in my late twenties, though I’ve been told I look younger.

Customer: “I wanna see what these are worth.”

Me: “Sure, I’ll check out what they’re worth on the computer.”

I check their values. Unfortunately, while the cards are neat, they’re not worth more than a few dollars total. I bring them back over to the counter.

Me: “So, it looks like I can give you [low amount] for these.”

Customer: “No, one of those alone is worth [higher amount].”

Me: “I went through and got the values for all of them. This one here is worth the most at [amount].”

Customer: “I want your boss to check, not some eye candy cashier.”

One of my regulars, who’s nearby on a demo machine, overhears. He’s very obviously trying not to laugh.

Me: “You want the manager?”

Customer: “Yeah! You obviously did something wrong!”

Me: “Sure.”

I go into the back, where my boyfriend is working on some inventory. He technically doesn’t work for me, but he pitches in sometimes when it’s busy. I tell him someone wants to speak to a manager after I helped them. My boyfriend rolls his eyes and comes out to the counter.

Boyfriend: “Is there an issue here?”

Customer: “Yeah, your s***ty cashier lowballed me on my cards. I know they’re worth more!”

Boyfriend: “Are these the cards?”

Customer: “Yeah!”

My boyfriend takes them and checks them, again, on the computer. He comes back and sets them on the counter.

Boyfriend: “They’re worth [low amount] total. What did she tell you?”

Customer: “There’s no way you guys are gonna give me a s*** offer like that. I wanna talk to the owner! Call him!”

The regular now just bursts out laughing. The card guy turns to look at him.

Customer: “What’s so d*** funny?!”

Regular: “You dumb f***! She is the owner!”

The card guy looks at me.

Customer: “No way. She’s too young and too d*** stupid to run a place like this!”

Boyfriend: “Yeah, you know what? I don’t think we need these cards.” 

Customer: “What?!”

Me: “Yeah, I’m gonna take back my offer. You could always try eBay.”

He looks like he’s about to yell at us, but then he picks up his cards and leaves. My boyfriend shakes his head and heads back into the back room.

Regular: “D***, I love this place.”

Related:
Call Of Duty: Misogynist Warfare, Part 6
Call Of Duty: Misogynist Warfare, Part 5
Call Of Duty: Misogynist Warfare, Part 4
Call Of Duty: Misogynist Warfare, Part 3
Call Of Duty: Misogynist Warfare, Part 2

I’m in line at a Hispanic grocery store with an older Japanese woman in front of me. The cashier finishes ringing her up and the customer hands her a twenty for a six-dollar charge.

Employee: “Here you go, ma’am.”

The employee gives her four dollars in change.

Customer: “Umm, excuse me. You messed up my change.”

Employee: *Dismissively* “No, I didn’t. Now, if you could please move along?”

Customer: “Wait, please, I do need the money.”

The cashier looks noticeably annoyed.

Employee: “Look. I get that English isn’t your first language, but that’s how much change you get from a ten.”

Me: *Interrupting* “Hey, she gave you a twenty, not a ten. Why won’t you give her the right change?”

This seems to set off the cashier, who quickly walks off to get a manager. She brings the manager and talks to her, facing her and ignoring us.

Employee: *In Spanish* “This old lady keeps insisting that I took her ten dollars and won’t go away. “

Me: *Interrupting again in Spanish* “She paid with a twenty and you didn’t give her the correct change.”

The cashier glared at me, and with a huff, took the cash from the register to count it with the manager. They came back about seven minutes later, the manager looking annoyed and the cashier completely unwilling to look me or the older woman in the eyes as she gave her the correct change.