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This Land Was Made For Me Not You

, , | Right | March 11, 2009

Me: “Hello. May I take your order?”

Customer: “Yes, I’d like two bean burritos, two fah-jee-tuhs, grilled stuffed burritos, and a large drink.”

Me: “Fah-jee-tuh?”

Customer: “Yes!”

Me: “You mean fajitas?”

Customer: “No, we don’t pronounce it like that! We’re in America, not Mexico!”

Always Right, Even When Trafficking People

, , , , , | Right | March 10, 2009

Me: “Thank you for calling [Home Improvement Store]. This is [My Name] speaking. How can I help you?”

Customer: “Yes, hi. I was just wondering how much your Mexicans are?”

Me: “I’m sorry?”

Customer: “Your Mexicans. The ones you have outside in the parking lot. I need some work done on my roof and I wanted to come pick up a couple.”

Me: “Ma’am… first of all, they are called day laborers. Secondly, they don’t belong to us. They don’t belong to anyone, actually; they are people. Third, our city prohibits soliciting work in a shopping center, so we actually don’t have any workers in the parking lot. If you need work done–”

Customer: “Never mind, I’ll just shop somewhere else!” *hangs up*

Homeland Insecurity

, , , , | Right | February 27, 2009

(I’m ringing up a man who is buying a new laptop.)

Customer: “So, what are your ethnicities?”

(This question didn’t strike me as odd, as people have wondered in the past.)

Me: “Half European and half Middle Eastern.”

Customer: “Oh, so like one of those terrorists… just watered-down.”

Me: “Oh, I’m not watered-down, sir.” *holds out his receipt, smirking*

(The customer looked a bit freaked, grabbed his receipt and took off quickly with his stuff — except for his credit card.)

Playing Unfair With The Fairer Sex

, , , , , | Right | February 8, 2009

(I provide Internet support over the phone. I am the only qualified technician working today. I also happen to be female.)

Me: “Welcome to [Company] Internet support. My name is [My Name]. How can I help you?”

Customer: “Oh, hello, sweetheart. I didn’t realize I’d reached the reception. Would you please connect me to Internet support?”

Me: “This is Internet support. What can I do for you?”

Customer: “I want help with a technical problem. I can’t talk to you. I want to talk to a man!”

Me: “Sir, I can assure you that I’ll be able to help you with your technical problem. I am the qualified technician here today.”

Customer: “You are a girl! You have no clue how to help me! This is man stuff. I demand to speak with a man!”

(This continues for ten minutes. The customer gets more and more aggravated and starts yelling nasty comments. I give up, and connect him to my coworker, who sits next to me. My coworker is male.)

Coworker: “Welcome to [Company] Internet support. My name is [Coworker]. How can I help you?”

Customer: “Finally, a man! My Internet is so unstable these days; I can’t seem to stay on it! It takes forever to load and the speed is horrible!”

Coworker: “Sir, I see the problem, and I’m sending a report. It will be fixed on Monday.”

Customer: “What?! It’s Saturday! Why do you have to wait until Monday? I want it fixed now!”

Coworker: “Well, we would need a qualified technician to log into the system to fix your line. It’s Saturday, so there is only one qualified technician working.”

Customer: “Get him to fix it now! I demand to speak with him!”

Coworker: “Sir, you have already spoken to her.”

Customer: “Wait. Her?”

Coworker: “Yes. You spoke to our only qualified technician earlier today. You yelled profanities at her, and demanded to speak to a man.”

Customer: “So, I’ll be lucky if my Internet is up again on Monday?”

Coworker: “You’ll be lucky if you have Internet at all.”

With Thought, Care And Testosterone

, , , | Right | February 6, 2009

Female Conference Attendee: “Where’s the cook? This food is amazing, and I want to give my regards to the cook.”

Me: “That’s great to hear; if you wait a moment, I’ll get him out of the back.”

(I return with the cook.)

Me: “This is [Cook], and he is our head cook.”

Female Conference Attendee: *looking behind the head cook* “No, seriously, where’s the cook? I need to talk with her.”

Cook: “Ma’am, I am the cook. How can I help you?”

Female Conference Attendee: *looking askance* “You are NOT the cook. You cannot BE the cook. The food here is so wonderful, so full of love it MUST be cooked by a woman.”

Cook: “All right, you caught us. The real cook has her day off today. We’ll thank her when she gets back tomorrow.”

Female Conference Attendee: “Yes, you will.” *muttering as she walks away* “Men who cook… sheesh.”