A heavily pregnant woman is buying cigarettes. While I personally don’t approve, she has ID, and I can’t deny the sale, so I ring her up. Despite my saying nothing, the customer is immediately antagonistic.

Customer: “Judging me already, huh?”

Me: “What? No? I’m just selling you your cigarettes.”

Customer: “Then why’d you give me the packet that says, ‘Smoking while pregnant can cause birth defects and disabilities’?!”

Me: “Oh, I didn’t notice. I just grabbed the closest pack of the size and brand you asked for.”

Customer: “Uh-huh, suuuure you did. People like you are what’s wrong with society! Why are you so scared of disabled children? What’s wrong with disabled people? You’re just another example of an ableist a**hole who wants to police what women do with their bodies!”

Me: “Ma’am, I have literally said nothing to you other than telling you the total for your cigarettes and asking you for ID. Nothing more.”

Customer: “I could tell from your face!” 

Me: “So, you’re calling me a sexist ableist just from my face, but I’m the judgemental one?”

She pauses.

Customer: “You’re lucky I didn’t record this and blast you online!” *Storms off*

I started working in a music and recording studio a few months ago. We’re working on Martin Luther King Jr. Day, and the boss, an older white gentleman, brings in fried chicken, grape juice, and watermelon for everyone.

I am a white guy, and most of my coworkers are Black (we’re close to a historically Black neighborhood), so I feel compelled to ask a Black coworker:

Me: “Isn’t this… uh… kinda…”

Coworker: “Racially stereotyping African Americans?”

Me: “Uh… yeah?”

Coworker: “Yeah, someone told [Boss] years ago as a joke that to celebrate today, we Black folk eat fried chicken and watermelon and drink grape juice.”

Me: “Wow, and he believed them?”

Coworker: “I mean, he had no reason not to.”

Me: “And no one has told him otherwise?”

Coworker: *Grabbing a plate* “And risk our free fried chicken?!”

Our store has a membership card that allows access to quite significant discounts. Customers can fill out the application form online, but older customers tend to fill it out physically in-store. There is an optional diversity section for market research that asks questions about sex, gender, ethnicity, orientation, religion, etc. A reminder, that section is entirely optional; you can leave it all blank if you like.

An older male customer approaches me with his completed form.

Customer: “I filled out your form, but that diversity section needs some work.”

Me: “Oh, how so?”

Customer: “Well, I’m white! I ain’t got no ethnicity!”

Me: “I… see?”

Customer: “And why y’all gotta confuse us by asking for our pronouns and s***?”

Me: “Well, when we send out emails or letters, we’d prefer to know how to address our customers.”

Customer: “But I’m straight! I don’t have any pronouns!” 

Oh, boy…

We have a regular caller who we all despise. He got into our bad books because he is rude, never tips, always finds something wrong with the order, and always demands refunds or discounts. He has “evolved” into saying a previous manager gave him a credit for a free pizza and we “had better give it to him if we know what is good for us”.

So far, par for the course. It’s annoying, but nothing we’re not used to in customer service. And then, the following call happens.

Caller: “My pizza is all wrong! I wanted double pepperoni, and I got regular!”

Manager: “Hello… again, sir. I made your pizza myself, and I put the pepperoni slices on personally. I can assure you that what you’re looking at is our double portion.”

Caller: “Then this is bulls***! Your portions are way too small! Did you get one of the r****ds to make it?!”

Manager: “Pardon me?”

Caller: “I was driving past the other day, and I saw who you got out front — one of them ‘Downs’ girls that people hire because they feel sorry for them. They better not have drooled over my pizza!”

Manager: “Sir, that is totally unacceptable. Your pizza is as ordered and—”

Caller: “I think I should get a credit for a free pizza for next time!”

Manager: “You know what? Sure. I’ll put in a credit for a free pizza for you.” *Click*

My manager goes over to the computer and put a credit into the system, but then he presses the big red button that blocks said customer from delivery. I walk over as he’s typing some customer notes into the system. 

Me: “What are you doing?”

He explains the gist of the conversation he had.

Manager: “I didn’t want to waste any more time on that a**hole. Giving him a credit was the quickest way to shut him up, and I am no liar, so I am giving him a credit. I’m also blocking him from delivery, so he’ll never be able to use it.”

He made sure he was there to pick up the phone the next time the regular called, and he delighted in informing him that he was banned as a customer for being recorded using hate speech in a previous phone call. The caller was not happy.

The recorded call where he was informed of this was then played out loud for everyone in the back room when we took our breaks. This made all of us happy.

When we are out walking with our four-year-old son, we sometimes encounter an older gentleman in the area. He hasn’t done anything specific that would be cause for alerting authorities, but he gives us a very bad feeling.

The first time we noticed him was when our son was not yet walking but aware of the world around him. The man came up as he was walking in the opposite direction.

Man: “Oh, what a cute little boy! You are so cute!”

At first, we didn’t think much of it other than being a bit awkward as we aren’t very socially outward. But the man kept mentioning our son’s cuteness, to our son, without ever looking in our direction. I tried to think positively, that it was my social difficulties that made a bad feeling about this man grow, and I tried to calm down and smile. However, once I noticed that my son looked terrified, we firmly walked away.

This kept happening. We avoided eye contact and didn’t slow down our walk, yet the man always took whatever seconds he managed to get to talk to our son, even to the point where my husband told him to stop. He didn’t; it was as if we didn’t exist. He never followed us or anything; it was only that creepy behaviour when we happened to walk past each other.

Since then, our son has forgotten his first fright of the man, but he does notice that we don’t like to linger when approached by that man specifically. On an unrelated note, but relevant to the story, this man was not of Scandinavian ethnicity looks-wise.

One day, my son came home from kindergarten.

Son: “Mom, we are bad people.”

Me: “Really? Why?”

Son: “It is bad to avoid someone with darker skin.”

At first, I wasn’t sure what he was talking about, but once I understood he meant that man, I explained to him that, yes, you shouldn’t avoid people because they have darker skin, but that we avoided him because he had scared him when he was little and given Mommy and Daddy bad feelings about it. Since we have friends of different ethnicities, even family members, he seemed to understand that we only avoided that man, not dark-skinned people in general.

Of course, we used much simpler terms, but I tried to explain the difference between avoiding someone with dark skin and avoiding someone BECAUSE they have dark skin.

Later, there was a reminder to all parents sent from kindergarten about their policy that they didn’t accept any discrimination of any kind, among some other policies they mentioned. We did not think much of it until we had a meeting with one of the teachers.

Teacher: “I must say, I am worried about what your son is learning. He has told us that you avoid dark-skinned people because they give us bad feelings.”

Husband: “What? That’s not true!”

Teacher: “Look. I need to remind you that we do not accept discrimination here. Your son has several friends of different ethnicities, and that is a good thing.”

Me: “Is this about that man? My son thought we avoided a man because he had dark skin. Did he get that from kindergarten?”

Teacher: “We teach the children not to discriminate…”

Me: “And so do we.”

Teacher: “Then why are you teaching him to avoid a person with dark skin?”

Me: “We avoid that man because he scared our son on several occasions when he was younger and doesn’t listen when we tell him off.”

Husband: “Why would he think it is because of his skin? I don’t even know why he would get that idea?”

The teacher grew quiet for a moment and then excused herself to make a phone call. Coming back, she explained that there had been a misunderstanding. Apparently, our son mentioned the man once after we had met him, and one of the teachers had asked what he looked like. Then, when our son proceeded to say that we always avoid him, she jumped to the conclusion that we were racists and then had a talk with all the children about how it is bad to avoid someone just because of their skin colour. Unfortunately for our four-year-old, he didn’t quite grasp all the reasoning and took that as us being bad people.

We never found out which teacher it was, and I am sure she had noble intentions. But next time, I hope she talks to us before teaching our son that he is a bad person.