Customer: *Tossing a receipt at me* “You overcharged me, you stupid b****!”

Me: “You asked for the chicken combo with cajun fries?”

Customer: “Yeah! And I was overcharged twenty-five cents, you stupid b****!”

Me: “Please stop swearing, ma’am. The cajun fries are a twenty-five-cent upcharge from the regular combo.”

Customer: “That’s stupid! I want my money back!”

Me: “If you can give back the cajun fries, I can replace them with regular.”

Customer: “Stuck up [trans slur] b****!”

I am not trans, but I present as androgynous, and this has crossed a line for me as well as decent society. I take a quarter from the register and toss it on the floor.

Me: “Here, take your money and go. You don’t deserve any more of my time.”

Customer: “I will call corporate and get you fired!”

Me: “And it still would have been worth it. Next customer, please!”

I was not fired.

Related:
Oh, So Worth It

I came out as asexual to my family. My siblings were fine with it, my mother was iffy, and my stepfather point-blank refused to believe asexuality was a thing besides in plants. It just didn’t exist to him. It was a hassle to get him to think otherwise.

Stepfather: “The dictionary said asexual is when a plant reproduces with itself. It’s not a sexuality or whatever. It’s with plants.”

Me: “That’s one definition, [Stepfather]. It’s also when someone has no interest in sex or sexual relationships. “

Stepfather: “If it’s not in the dictionary, it’s not true. It’s for plants.”

Me: “Fine, I’ll look it up.”

Stepfather: “I’m not talking about that Urban Dictionary s***. A real dictionary.”

I look it up.

Me: “HA! Webster’s Dictionary. ‘Asexual: not having sexual feelings toward others; not experiencing sexual desire or attraction.’ In the dictionary!”

My stepfather took my phone and read the definition, mumbled some inaudible nonsense, shoved the phone back into my hand, and stormed off without a word.

Both parents, who did their best/worst to keep me away from boys and sex, now regularly pull the “You haven’t found the right guy; once you do, you’ll love it” card. Gross. No, thanks.

This took place around 1997 or 1998 when I was around seven or eight old in West Virginia. West Virginia is a conservative, Republican state. Luckily (or unluckily, depending on how you look at it) I was raised by very liberal parents. It probably helped that my dad was from Detroit and my mom lived outside West Virginia for a while before she came back. They had raised me to always look for the good in people and not to go by race, sex, religion, etc.

My dad’s best friend and coworker at the time was a lesbian and I was raised to call her and her partner my aunts, so I knew about gay people and was fine with it. However, I had never known about cross-dressing. We were in a home improvement store and I happened to see a very tall, pretty lady. She was wearing a short blue dress suit with high heels. That’s what made me notice her. Why would you be dressed like that walking in a home improvement store? Then, I noticed something else.

Me: “Mom! Daddy! See over there? That’s a man wearing a dress and high heels! He’s also got a blonde wig on! Why is he dressed like a lady?!”

My dad just looked at me, choking on his laughter.

Dad: “[Mom], you explain to her.”

Then, he walked off.

Mom: “That’s a man who sometimes likes to dress as a woman. There are men that do that; some women like to dress like men, too. Now, [My Name], I think you’ve embarrassed him. The whole store heard you yelling about he was dressed. Next time be quiet! There are people that don’t like people like that man.”

Of course, after she told me that, I felt terrible. I didn’t mean to embarrass him or make him feel like it wasn’t okay to dress that way. So, when I saw him again in another aisle, I did the only logical thing. 

Me: *Very loudly* “Look at how nice he looks! That’s a pretty dress and his hair is pretty! Look how pretty his legs are in those pantyhose!” 

To be fair, he did have pretty legs for a man.

Years later, I asked my parents about that incident. They told me he was a prominent lawyer in that city, was happily married with kids, and liked to do his home improvement shopping while dressed as a woman. To that man, I’m sorry little kid me possibly embarrassed you. But you did look very nice!

We have interviews lined up for a new position in the office. I am tending to paperwork while an applicant is making small talk.

Applicant: “And you’re a lesbian?”

Me: “What?”

Applicant: “A lesbian? You’re a lesbian.”

Me: “No?”

Applicant: *Looking extremely disappointed* “Oh, I thought you were a lesbian.”

He turned away and sat down. He was taken in shortly after for his interview, but he left rather quickly in comparison to the other applicants. The manager came out and asked what was up with him.

He had apparently interrupted the manager, mid-question, asking if there were any lesbians working here. When she said she didn’t know, he looked distraught and said he didn’t want to bother anymore.

We’ve blacklisted him just in case his curiosity about women’s sexuality in the office was anything other than innocent.

My dad and I were getting some lunch, and I decided I wanted chicken. We went to a popular fried chicken place, and as we were eating, a lady came in. I didn’t hear everything, but she was loud so I could hear some. It seemed she was complaining about them messing her order up, and she “is very careful about watching her diet.” This confused me; she was at a fast food restaurant. 

I could hear the manager trying to get some clarifying information, as the lady wasn’t really explaining what was wrong. It also seemed the lady wanted a refund but also wanted her food corrected. I couldn’t see very well from where we were sitting, but suddenly, the woman shrieked at the top of her lungs.

Customer: “OH, MY F****** GOD! OH, MY F****** GOD! ARE YOU HOMOSEXUALS?! I F****** HATE HOMOSEXUALS!”

She then stormed out of the building and walked away. I watched her to make sure I didn’t need to call the cops. It was so scary and so weird that most of us were silent for several minutes — and there were kids in the establishment.

I got into our car but then decided to give the employees something. I tried to find some money but I couldn’t find any cash, so I felt bad I didn’t give them a tip. However, I wrote a note on a receipt that said, “Don’t let it get to you. It says more about them than about you. Keep up the great work!” and left it at the front counter.

Part of me wishes I had said, “Well, I hate homophobes!”