(I’m a man. One of the regular customers at our hardware store is an elderly man named Ernie. Ernie usually came in just after the store opened and there weren’t many customers, so I’d grab a couple of lawn chairs off the shelf and sit out front with him, drinking coffee. Sometimes he’d make fun of my long hair by calling me ‘Missy’ or try to offer me a job as a secretary at his company as a joke, but I shrugged it off. One afternoon, Ernie’s wife comes into the store and encounters the owner.)
Wife: “I’m supposed to drop off these measurements to Jamie for the new kitchen floor they talked about this morning.”
Owner: “You mean Jimmy? He’s the one that talked to Ernie this morning.”
Wife: “I might have the name wrong. My husband said she’s a cute little brunette that wears glasses.”
Owner: “We haven’t had any women working today, ma’am.”
(I walk out of the backroom at this point. Ernie’s wife looks over in my direction, squints a little, and hands the piece of paper to me.)
Wife: “I guess my husband’s vision isn’t what it used to be, sonny.”
Me: “What do you mean, ma’am?”
Wife: “His hearing is gone, too! Don’t worry, sonny. He won’t be trying to play grab-a** with you anymore!”
(Ernie didn’t come in very often after that.)
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