(I am sixteen, working in a hardware store in a small town. Most of the customers are regulars but we get a lot of tourists in the winter. I am a cashier and part of my job description is helping customers carry things to their cars if they need help. A local buys three bags of fifty-pound ice melt and carries two, while I get the third. As I am coming back into the store, an older man, I’d say about seventy or eighty years old, confronts me.)

Older Man: “You shouldn’t have helped him!”

Me: “It’s my job.”

Older Man: “It’s unladylike to carry heavy objects, and you shouldn’t even work in a hardware store to begin with!”

(My manager comes up to us to see what the problem is.)

Older Man: *complaining to the manager* “She carried a bag of ice melt for another customer and she shouldn’t even work here!”

(My manager — who is my dad — says it is part of my job and that he asked me to work there and that I am good at my job. Another local overhears and defends me, too, saying that I have always offered to help her with anything she needs.)

Older Man: *as he’s leaving* “She should act like a real lady! She’ll never find a husband if she keeps acting like a man.”

(My brother is very homophobic; he doesn’t like being called gay, even as a joke.)

Me: “I read this article where it says most men don’t touch their butts or crotches while bathing, since they think it’s gay. Can you believe that?”

Brother: “Of course; touching yourself is gross. The Bible says so.”

Me: “So, you never clean yourself? Yuck!”

Brother: “I do.”

Me: “But you just said…”

Brother: “I just let the water clean it. And, after using the bathroom, I wipe.”

Me: “Ew! No wonder you smell!”

Brother: “Better than being gay!”

Me: “No wonder you can’t get a girlfriend.”

(He’d rather smell like butt than be “gay”.)

(I’m a fan of children’s TV show and I wear a necklace with the “mark” of one of my favorite characters. For the most part, people believe that I just like rainbows or am pro-homosexuality, and I hear very little about it. This incident is when I am ringing up a woman and her little girl has been staring at me for a while.)

Me: *scanning items* “So, are you guys having a nice day?”

Woman: *not looking at me in the eyes* “Yes.”

Little Girl: *turns to the woman* “Mommy, look at her necklace!”

Me: “Oh? Do you like it? I’m quite the fan of Rainbow.”

Little Girl: “Yeah, I like—”

Woman: “[Little Girl], do not talk to people like her!”

Me: *taken aback* “E-excuse me?”

Little Girl: “Mommy, that’s—”

Woman: “It’s one thing to be like that in your own home on your own time, but to advertise such a thing in public in front of children?”

Me: *starting to catch on* “Oh, I think I might have confused you. I actually have a boyfriend.”

Woman: *not listening* “Then you are trying to brainwash children in liking a sin?”

Me: “Ma’am, this is a symbol from [Popular Children’s TV Show]. It shows which character I like the best.”

(There is an awkward pause.)

Woman: “Wait, what?”

Little Girl: “She has her cutie mark!”

Woman: “Cutie mark?”

Me: “It’s a symbol for a character’s special talent.”

Woman: “Oh… Why didn’t you say so?”

Me: “Love and Tolerance, ma’am. Your total is [amount].”

(The woman was much nicer for the rest of the transaction. Every time the woman and child comes back in, I have fun conversations with the little girl and the mother is almost overly nice. She even asked me if I wanted to babysit!)

(I’ve just opened my register when a customer walks up with some cookies and other items.)

Me: “Hi, how are you? Do you have a [Store] card?”

Customer: “Yes, and some coupons. Hold on.”

(As she goes through her purse, I start ringing up her items.)

Customer: *looking at my name tag* “Your name is [My Name], huh? Funny way of spelling it.”

(My name is not an uncommon Irish name, and it happens to have the most oft-used spelling. I am multiracial, though, with more of my other ancestry prominent than my name would suggest.)

Me: “Ah, yup, that’s my name.”

Customer: “What’s your last name?”

Me: “Oh… Sorry, I don’t give that out.”

Customer: *huffy* “Well, I was only asking.”

(My coworker is signaling me for assistance in her transaction, but I sense that my customer won’t like me walking away from her, so I decide to finish her transaction first. My cashier and her customer, therefore, hear the rest of the increasingly bizarre conversation.)

Customer: “Do you know what my name is?”

Me: “Uh… No, can’t say I do. Sorry?”

Customer: “Oh, you’ll know it. Do you want to know why?”

Me: “Um, okay, sure.”

Customer: *a moment of silence* “That’s why.”

Me: “Sorry?”

Customer: *abruptly* “Where do you want to go?”

Me: “Go? I don’t follow.”

Customer: “What jail would you like to go to?”

Me: “Uh, no jail, actually, thanks?”

Customer: “Oh, well, I was just giving you a choice. Because that is not your name. That cannot be your name. Just you wait; you’ll be hearing from the authorities later today!” *storms out*

(I walk over to my coworker and her customer, a regular.)

Me: “Sorry for the wait.”

Coworker: “What was that?”

Me: “Apparently, my name wasn’t foreign enough for her? Really glad I didn’t give her my last name now!”

(I go to an interview with a very well-known delivery company. I’m female; I have sent my resume with my female name on it. A guy greets me and leads me to an office. I tell him that I worked for a rival delivery company before and we’re chatting until he drops this bomb.)

Interviewer: “So, I’m not a sexist, but I haven’t hired females here before.”

Me: “Oh, really? Well, I’ve seen females working here before!”

Interviewer: “Yes… Well… I don’t hire them. But lately, I decided to. And they were better than our males!”

Me: “Is that so?”

Interviewer: “Yes, so, I figured that females can deliver packages, too!”

(I wanted to leave, but I stayed because I needed the money. But really, how sexist! And creepy — he kept winking unnecessarily at me. I told my family about it and the males didn’t believe me, and the females said I should’ve recorded it and sued. Alas, I didn’t, or else I’d be a millionaire! Only the Internet knows the truth.)