(I have lost my voice. After several days, a doctor’s visit, and lots of meds, I am told to not even try speaking for a couple of days. I am not contagious and I have things to do so I head to the store. I get to the cosmetics counter and try to flag down an employee. The only employee has her back turned to me so I am forced to snap my fingers. Obviously, she looks annoyed when she comes over. I scribble on a sheet of paper and hand it to her.)
Paper: *handwritten* “Sorry, I couldn’t get your attention any other way.” *preprinted* “I can’t talk. I can hear. I need to get [item] in the large size. I don’t need anything else. You can ring me up here or I can go to the main registers, whatever is easier for you. Thanks.”
Cashier: “Oh! Don’t worry about it. I thought you were just one of those customers, but I can’t complain about this. No problem. Let me see if we have it in the large size. I only see it in small but we might have more in the back. Our order just came in.”
(I smile and nod. She comes back.)
Cashier: “Sorry, we don’t have any large ones in stock. We might get more in later this week. So, do you want to wait, get a small one, or get two small ones?”
(I scribble again.)
Paper: “I’ll take one small and come back later.”
Cashier: “Sure thing. I’m going to ring you up here since you don’t want to have to repeat this whole note thing at the registers.”
Paper: “Thanks.”
(We manage to finish the transaction with hand gestures and scribbles. As I turn to leave, a man who has been hanging out nearby rushes towards me.)
Manager: “Look, I’m glad you are finally finished because you are banned from this store. You do not treat my employees like that. Snapping your fingers like they are dogs?! I don’t think so. I don’t ever want to see you here again.”
(I try to hand him the paper I’ve been using but he pushes it away. The cashier has come out from behind the counter and is trying to interrupt.)
Manager: “Get back to work. I’m dealing with this racist.”
Cashier: “Racist? What are you talking about? This lady can’t talk. She apologized for snapping her fingers but I had my back turned.”
Manager: “And I suppose she would have snapped her fingers no matter what race you were?”
Cashier: “If I had my back turned, yeah. She had a note, all the details written down and typed, ready when she got here. Pretty sure she had no idea what race the employee would be before she got here.”
Manager: “Right. You believe that?”
Cashier: “I’m calling [Store Manager] up here. Ma’am, would you mind waiting a second? I need to be sure you don’t get banned.”
(I nod and wait while she pages someone. All the while, the manager is standing there looking smug.)
Store Manager: “What’s up?”
(The manager, who I now realize is an assistant manager, starts on his story. Finally the cashier interrupts and explains.)
Store Manager: “So, what’s the problem?”
Cashier: “There was no problem until [Manager] here decided to complain about the customer communicating in the only way they could.”
(The store manager apologized to me and assured me that he would deal with the assistant. I still have no idea why he thought it was racial.)
