For about four years, I worked at a department store that closed down about a month after I left for a new job. (Last I checked, it was used as a [global health crisis] clinic.) I had been hired to work in the shoe department. During my first holiday season there, we had a couple of seasonal workers there.

I was bringing out a box of boots from storage for a customer when I saw the two department managers chatting with one of the temp workers, a religious man. [Manager #1] was sharing pictures of a friend’s ultrasound images of their babies.

The temp worker was weirded out.

Temp Worker: “Those images can’t be real! God makes the face of the baby when they’re born!”

Manager #2: “That proves you never had one.”

I overheard this as I was handing the box of boots to the customer, and right there, in front of everyone, I started laughing like a madman.

An elderly couple calls our banking website helpline.

Caller: “We’re having some issues with our online banking.”

I start to go through verifying them to help them directly when they cut me off with one statement.

Caller: “Satan is in [Bank].”

Me: “Pardon?”

I’m at a total loss as to what they mean, but they’re speaking with such convincing tones, like they truly believe the devil is occupying our software.

We have some back-and-forth questions, and their frustration grows as they hiss out increasingly confusing things like:

Caller: “We’ve seen the mark of the beast on your website! Satan is here!“

Me: “Can you please describe what you’re seeing?”

This couple was down in Florida, and by then, I’d started to hedge my questions around some contextual clues, like, “Does anyone else use this computer to look things up?”

It turned out that they were using our search bar, but every time they went to click on it to search for something, these phrases were dropping down as suggested search items.

The couple had no idea what it meant to clear their cookies or cache, but by the time we got to that point in the conversation, they were too frustrated to listen to my directions. The best I could do was pass it along to my supervisors at their request so a “God-fearing soul could cleanse things and put it all to rights.”

As far as my coworkers and I could guess, it seemed like maybe a mischievous grandchild had been down to visit and decided to f*** with their grandparents’ heads.

I am always surprised when people leave oppressive or otherwise unhappy situations and then try to instill their values in their new situation. A friend of mine in college came from a very religious background and chose to leave, risking being shunned for his choice. We (his friends) were understanding and supportive when he asked questions or needed help adjusting, but there were times when he reverted to his old habits and got mad when others didn’t automatically go along with it.

I (a girl) was in my room when there was a knock at the next door. I heard some words being exchanged, and then the door slammed. A second later, there was a knock on my door. I opened it, and [Friend] came right in. He was followed by his roommate, who gave me an apologetic look.

Friend: “[My Dorm Neighbor] is hanging out with [Some Guy] with the door closed! I knocked and told them the door needs to stay open, but he flipped me off and shut the door in my face!”

Me: “I mean… It’s just as weird as leaving your apartment door open.”

Friend: “There are public areas if they want to hang out. There’s no need to do that. If we were in [his community], there would be so much backlash.”

Friend’s Roommate: “[Friend], that happens a lot outside of [Community].”

Friend: “Why do they have to have the door closed, though? If we were all hanging out, the door would be open.”

Me: “So…”

I pointed to the door that had closed behind them.

Friend: “Oh, no!”

He yanked the door open and grabbed the trash can to prop it open. He looked a little pale, so I offered him a seat. 

Me: “[Friend]. Listen, I know you’re going through a lot. I know it’s hard and scary, and—”

Friend: *Very defensive* “I’m not scared.”

Me: “Okay. I know it’s different and takes time to adjust, but you left that community by choice.”

Friend’s Roommate: “College is a melting pot; it’s a lot of different people coming together to get an education.”

Friend: “Well, what would their parents think? That’s just disrespectful.”

Friend’s Roommate: “Part of college is being on your own. You make your own decisions, and you live with them.”

Friend: “Ridiculous. I can’t imagine. My parents would never allow that.”

Me: “You can disapprove, and you can do something different, but you can’t expect everyone to change their life because it’s not how you were raised.”

He walked out. [Friend]’s roommate and I exchanged a shrug and he left. Our friendship deteriorated as the semester went on, and eventually, [Friend] was gone. [Friend]’s roommate said his parents came and packed up all his things while he was in class, and that was the end of their adventure.

The comments under this story reminded me of an incident from long ago.

I was studying computer science, and part of the final year coursework was a huge software development group project. Four of us were Australian-born. The fifth, Amr, was from the Middle East. His father was a diplomat. They came to Australia when Amr was twelve, and when the next posting came, it was decided that Amr should finish his education in Australia.

So, by the time I met Amr, he had spent ten years in Australia, most of it without his parents. He was an Aussie bloke in most aspects. I knew he was Muslim, but I also knew he was not a strict adherent. For example, he drank more (much more) than the rest of us. What I didn’t know, which is important for this story, was about Halal and Haram. 

We’d typically spend our Saturdays at one of our homes, a big sharehouse near the university with a kitchen and plenty of living rooms. We’d take turns bringing food, and this particular Saturday, I bought two family-sized meat pies and some salad. I stopped working a little before lunchtime to prepare the food. I put the hot pies and cold salad out, and people grabbed plates and took what they wanted.

I was in the kitchen when Amr came back for seconds.

Amr: “This pie is amazing. What is it?”

Me: “Beef and bacon.”

Yeah, I shudder to write that now!

Amr: “OH, NO! Muslims aren’t allowed to eat pork!”

I saw the look on his face, and I started apologising. I knew about Kosher, so I thought I understood what that meant to him. I could not have been more wrong!

Amr: “YOU SHOULDN’T HAVE TOLD ME! Now I can’t have a second slice!”

In case you are curious, Amr finished his degree and was not allowed to stay in the country as his student visa expired. He could not go back to his home country because they have compulsory service and he would be an Aussie boy in a Middle Eastern army. So, he moved to New Zealand, who was happy to have him. His plan was to move back to Australia after he got New Zealand citizenship, but I believe by then he was very happy with his new home. I hope he has discovered turkey bacon!

Related:
We’re Pretty Sure That’s Illegal, Dude!

I am a waiter at a restaurant, and I am currently transitioning (female to male). The vast majority of customers don’t notice or don’t care, but of those that do…

Customer: “Are you one of those… those he-shes?”

Me: “I identify as transgender if that’s what you’re asking.”

Customer: “I do not want to be served by someone who is mentally ill! Get me another server.”

When this happens, I have been advised to call my manager over, so I do. Usually, I run a tight ship, so when my manager comes over for me, he knows it’s most likely the bigotry thing. I’m in my early twenties and my manager is in his late twenties.

Manager: “How can I help you, ma’am?”

Customer: “I do not want to be served by someone who is mentally ill.”

Manager: “As far as I am aware, all of our staff are mentally fit enough to work here.”

Customer: “A person who thinks they can choose their own gender and then mutilate their God-given body to try to make it fit isn’t right in the head. I don’t want them dripping their… hormones all over my food!”

Manager: “Ma’am… you think… you think being transgender is something you can catch?!“

Customer: “I’ve made my request. Will you honor it?”

Manager: “I will not move my staff around to cater to your outdated and, quite frankly, vile ideas, ma’am.”

Customer: “Your generation invented this! We didn’t have all this trans stuff when I was younger!”

Manager: “You did, but they were all miserable. Now they get the chance to be happy, but it’s making you miserable. They didn’t have a choice to be miserable, yet you’re choosing it, and you say they’re the mentally ill ones?”

Thankfully, the customer broke down into Biblical rhetoric and escorted themselves out. I hope they’re happy choosing to be miserable elsewhere…