Me: “Hi, [Regular]! Are you finding things okay?”

Regular: “No! Where is that bread I like? You’re always moving things around. I’m an old lady. I shouldn’t have to look for things. You people should do more to help the elderly.”

Me: “I would be happy to help you look. Remind me which bread you like?”

Regular: “You know which one. It’s the one with the man on it!”

(I look at the bread section and see two different brands with a man on the package. I pick one and ask her of this is the one.)

Regular: “No! I hate that man! Don’t even show him to me!”

(It is a cartoon-like drawing of a happy baker. The other brand also has a drawing of a baker.)

Me: “Wow, I’m sorry. The only other bread we have with a man on the package is this other one. Is this the bread you were looking for?”

Regular: “No! I hate that man, too! They are all criminals who don’t know about bread!”

Me: “Okay. Well, these are the only two kinds of bread we carry that have men on the package.”

Regular: *angrily* “I know you. I know your type. You Greeks are always trying to rip me off. You look me in the eye when you are lying to me!”

(Yup. You got me, lady. I am the one who hides bread with cartoon drawings of bakers on the package from old ladies. Busted!)

(My mother and I are at a discount store, shopping around in the furniture section. While the rest of the store is the property of [Discount Retailer], the furniture section is actually rented out by a furniture retailer and staffed with [Furniture Retailer]’s employees. My mom is redecorating her house for the first time in 30 years, and I am furnishing my first house, so we have both picked out several items from the furniture section: large area rugs, two sofas, lamps, and coffee tables. A very nice employee has been working with us the whole time and has loaded up a large cart with everything but the sofas.)

Employee: “Okay! The sofas will have to be brought from the back, but I managed to get everything else on here.”

Mother: “Thank you so much. Do we just go up to the front?”

Employee: “Yes, ma’am, I’m just going to go ahead and pull this up there.”

Customer: *a large, sweaty, barefoot, redneck man in a wife-beater with a huge knife strapped to his belt comes barreling up to us* “Hey, I want a vacuum I saw in y’all’s ad, but the lady over there told me y’all sold out. Go check in the back for me and see if she knew what she was talkin’ about or not.”

Employee: “Actually, sir, I work for [Furniture Retailer] and don’t really know anything about the store’s ad or their merchandise.”

Customer: “Huh?”

Employee: “I’m sorry, but I’m pretty much only permitted to stick to my furniture area. I don’t really get to go in [Discount Store]’s back room much, so I wouldn’t even know what I was doing.”

Customer: “That’s bulls***!”

Employee: “I’m sorry, sir, but there’s a nice young man working in automotive that should be able to help you—”

Customer: “Nah, you just stay here and talk to these ladies, runnin’ their mouths like y’all were doing. F*** you!”

(The customer stormed off and the three of us were just left standing there, all flabbergasted by the exchange.)

Mother: *very quietly* “What a wack job. I’m sorry you have to deal with customers like that. Would you like to go after him? I don’t want you getting complained about because you were with us.”

Employee: “No, ma’am, I’m helping two paying customers who have been nothing but nice. And… go after him? Did you see the size of that knife?! If I go after him, odds are he’d be coming after me!”

(We all cracked up and the rest of the transaction went well.)

(I work at an office supply store in our tech center. I am the only girl in that entire department and I pick things up from our computer techs. Other than the boys behind the counter, everyone else is fairly new to the department. A customer walks into the store and heads directly to our computer section; I walk over to ask if he needs assistance.)

Me: “Hello, sir. May I answer any questions for you today?”

Customer: *gruff* “No, I’ve got it.”

Me: “All right, well, if you have any questions for me, my name is [My Name]; feel free to let me know.”

(About thirty seconds later, my male coworker walks over to ask the same question.)

Customer: *lit up at the sight of a man* “Yes! I have a ton of questions. I have no idea what I need. I want to know [technical questions], about battery life, and about what would be right for me to run my business with.”

Male Coworker: “Um… You know, I’m still fairly new here. Let me grab our computer expert.”

(He then runs to grab me to assist.)

Me: “Hello again, sir. I heard you may have some questions for me. [Coworker] is still fairly new so he’ll probably stick around to learn some things, just like you.”

Customer: “Oh, I, uh… Okay. Well. I guess. So, you’re the best with all this.”

Me: “Yes, sir, I’ve picked up quite a lot working here. I’m sure I can send you home with a lot more knowledge, too.”

(I then spend a couple of minutes explaining a few details about our computers.)

Customer: “Well, I have to go to a meeting.”

Me: “All right, I hope this helped. I hope to see you in the future.”

(The customer then leaves.)

Male Coworker: “So… he didn’t want your help because you’re a girl. Does that happen a lot?”

Me: “Unfortunately, yes.”

(The customer came back about an hour later and I helped him get everything he needed. I wish I could say that this was rare, but it happens often, even with female customers.)

(I’m female but I present very masculinely. I’m in the makeup section, looking around seriously.)

Employee: “Why are you even here? You’re not going to buy these girly things.”

Me: “They aren’t for me; I’m buying for someone else.”

Employee: “Just go away.”

Me: “What would you think if a man came here?”

Employee: “Buying a present?”

Me: “Well, there you go.”

Employee: “But…”

(I ended up not buying there and she was like, “I told you so.” I bought elsewhere and walked past with the shopping bag, holding it up to her. She looked pissed.)

(I’m at a big retail store when the following occurs.)

Little Girl: “I want this one.”

Mother: “Are you sure?”

(I glance back. A small white girl with blonde hair is holding a black Barbie doll with an Afro. Her mother is also blonde.)

Little Girl: “Yes! She’s so pretty! I love her hair!”

Mother: “Are you sure? I’m not returning this.”

Little Girl: “Like I said, I love her!”

Mother: “Well, okay. I guess you can have her. But are you sure you don’t want the doll with the really long hair?”

Little Girl: “No, I want this one! Grandma got me the Rapunzel one last time!”

Mother: “Well, okay. But I’m not returning her.”

Me: *thinking* “Just get her the doll already!”